CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(l\/lonographs) 


ICIMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographles) 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


iOO/l 


I 


istoriques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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n 
n 


titre  de  couverture  manque 


Coloured  maps/ 

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Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

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D 


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livraison 


livraison 


Generique  (periodiques)  de  la  livraison 


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Cedo 

'UA 

tem  is 
cumei 

filme 
It  est 

datt 
filme 

he  red 
au  tai 

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reduc 

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tion  ii 

kedb 
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t8x 

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22X 

26  X 

30X 

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12X                                 16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

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22X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
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first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  —»>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

4 

5 

led  thanks 


da 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grSce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Bibliothdque  Rationale  du  Canada 


quality 
egibility 
I  the 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


are  filmed 
ng  on 
d  impres- 
ie.  All 
ig  on  the 
npres- 
i  printed 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimde  sont  filmds  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  fiimds  en  commenqant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


iche 
"CON- 
END"). 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


d  at 

ge  to  be 
med 
left  to 

IS  as 
ate  the 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  etre 
film6s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  §tre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichd,  il  est  filmd  d  partir 
de  Tangle  supdrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  naut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nornbre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


Li  Mis 

15.0 


lUUU 


3.6 


2.5 


"^  IB     12.2 


IIIDs 


2.0 


1.8 


^    APPLIED  IfVt^GE 


Inc 


1653  East   Main   Street 

Rochester,   New  York        14609       USA 

(716)   482-  0300-  Phone 

(716)   288-  5989  -Fax 


POEMS. 


BY 


HELEN    M.  JOHNSON. 


Thou  canst  not  learn,  nor  can  I  shov- 
To  paint  with  Thomson's  landscape  glo»v 
Or  wake  the  bosom-melting  throe  ' 

With  Shenatonc's  art . 
Or  pour,  with  Gray,  the  moving  fiow 

Warm  on  the  heart. 

"  Yet  all  beneath  the  unrivalled  rose 
The  lowly  daisy  sweetly  blows  ; 
Though  large  the  forest's  monarch  throws 

His  army  shade, 
Yet  green  the  juicy  hawthorn  grows 
Adown  the  glade."  jj^-j^.^.^ 


BOSTON: 
PUBLISHED  BY   J.   V.   HIMES, 


1865 


*TK1 


O3(o 
Al7 


694^7 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  tlie  year  1855,  by 

JOSHUA    V.    IIIMKS, 

In  tlie  Clerk's  OIBce  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


stereotyped  by 
IIOBART  &  ItOHBINS, 
New  England  Type  and  BtiTeotype  Fuundery, 

BOHTON. 


PREFACE. 


At  the  request  of  friends  these  poems  are  submitted 
to  the  public  eye.  To  them  it  will  prove  aa  acccpta- 
bh>  o&ring;  but  I  know  there  is  truth  in  the  words 
of  Cowper,  that  "it  is  one  thing  to  write  what  may 
P  ease  our  friends,  and  another  to  write  what  may 
please  everybody." 

I  am  not  so  vain  as  to  expect  to  please  «  everybody  •  '• 
no,  for  I  feel  sensibly  that  these  pages  will  not  belr 
the  scrutinizing  gaze  of  the  critic.     Should  such  a  one 
happen  to  glance  over  them,  though  he  may  perhaps 
sm.le  at  my  folly  f„,  ttus  intruding  myself  into  the 
sacred  grove  of  Poesy,  still  I  would  ask  him  to  make 
every  allowance  for  my  youth  (these  poems  having 
been  written  at  an  early  age),  and  for  my  circumstances 
■n  hfe ;  and  also  let  him  remember  that  the  feeblest 
"" ""'■■'  ""'"  '^^^'^  >""'''  -"ade  in  a  great  and  good 


IV 


PREFACE. 


C.1US0  have  sometimes  been  crowned  with  success,  and 
blessed  to  the  good  of  others. 

Although  I  do  not  oven  dare  to  hope  for  distinction, 
jet  I  have  been  cheered  and  encouraged  by  the  thought 
that  perhaps  through  my  instrumentality  the  heart  of 
some  humble  believer  might  be  comforted,  and  some 
wretched  v,  anderer,  weary  of  the  vanities  of  earth,  be 
directed  to  the  only  source  of  life  and  happiness. 

Should  such  be  the  case,  the  brightest  hopes  of  the 
authoress  will  be  fulfilled,  and  she  herself  bo  amply 
compensated  for  her  care  and  labor. 


5UCCCSS,  and 


distinction, 
the  thought 
ic  heart  of 
,  and  some 
if  earth,  be 
incss. 

opes  of  the 
bo  amply 


4 

4 


CONTENTS. 


THE  I'llOMISES,  IN  XVI.  PARTS, 

RELIGION  AND  CONSOLATION, 

THE  BROTHERS, "^ 

THE  SURRENDER  OP  QUEBEC, 

THE  OLD  INDIAN, 

THE  HUSBAND'S  LAMENT, .' ^^^ 

THE  CONTRAST, ^^^ 

'*'* • igR 

THE  MINSTREL'S  SONG 

' irtq 

TWILIGHT  MUSINGS,     .... 

l?** 

PASSING  AWAY, 

THE  EXILE'S  FAREWELL, ^'^ 

THE  ORPHAN, ^^^ 

'     *     *     ' Jgo 

BEHOLD  HOW  HE   LOVED   US 

EARTH  NOT  THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HOME,   ... 

THE  SERVANT  IS  NOT  ABOVE  HIS  mIsteR,  ." 'l' 

TO  A  MOTHER  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  HER   CHILD,'  .'  ."  '   \,, 
LIVE  BY  FAITH,  AND  NOT  BY  SIGHT, .   .   .  .       ' 

THE  MISSIONARY, ' ^^^ 

'** •••...  198 

'-■•.V,    uijxxvr, 

THE  STAR  OF  BETHLEHEM  . 


1# 


202 


▼I  CONTKNTS. 

THE  MOTf^tiin'S  I.AMKNT, 20^ 

'TIS  I -HE   NOT  AFRAID, 207 

BEHOLD,   HE   COMETH ' jOfi 

THE  WANDEUER, 211 

THE  MKSSENOER-BlKi) 2U 

THE  DYING   WARRIOR, 218 

THE  MOTHER'S  ROCK ,218 

THE  DRUNKARD'S  WIFE, 228 

THE  NEW  YEAR, 228 

THE  CAPTIVE, 030 

INCOMPREHENSIBILITY  OP  GOD, 033 

LINES  FOR  AN   ALBUM, 234 

ON   THE   DEATH  OF  A   MOTHER, 235 

DEATH, ; 237 

EWJAII, 239 

HE  DOETII  ALL  THINGS  WELL, 241 

THE   CRUCIFIED  OF  GALILEE, 243 

THE  POET'S   COMPLAINT, 245 

^^^^y 248 


I  Tho 

I  Befc 

I  The 

I  And 


I     Thoi 
^     Win 
Thoi 
Call( 


Who 

Who 

That 

At  t; 

Then 
And 


Even 
Uncle 

J  • 

A  wo: 


204 

207    * 

i 
209     f 

i 

211    I 

214    I 

218 

^"     «  THE   PROMISES. 

220 

228  "  ~ 

^^       i  PART    I. 

233 

234       :     It  "^'t^^  ^^  •  ^'^'^  ^"'«*  exiHtonce  with  thyself  alono  • 

236      -^'^^'"^  j;;';;';^"/^'*^"^' ^*'«««  gr^^at,  d^^^^ 

237      i    ^'^^  ^"(j;^;  P"^«  i"  every  thouglit,  kneel  with  a  covered 

23^      ^  ^"^  scniphira  and  cherubim  with  bluHhes  breathe  their 

241  ^"^^^'  '  — 

01.       >  w^  '*"?'^^;<^:^!^  ^^"«  •  w^o  wast  from  everlasting  God, 

'''  Tl""  ";f  ^''^^  time   space  and  eternity,  thine  own  abode ; 

245      I  A  hou  all-creating  One  !  who  out  of  Chaos'  deepest  night 

I  Called  suns,  and  worlds  on  worlds,  and  from  the  bladcest 
248      V  darkness,  light ; 

I  Who  utterotli  thine  awful  voice,  and  all  creation  quakes  ; 

^    ^^""^  ^hSd ''''  '''''^'''^''^  ^^"1^  Pl'^aets  are  on  planets 
^^  ^^'^woHd'-^-^''"*  command,  and  world  clashes  with 
Then  thou  caist  speak  in  softened  accents,  at  thy  will 
And  rajng  ^rbs  and  roaring  elements  are  hushed  and 

Even  to  Thee,  0  mighty  God  !  I  come,  while  in  my  breast 
J    S  '  n  ?  ^"^  ^^^  ^^J?^^^^'  ^'^^  ^^^k  and  direful  rest.  ' 

"     a'^^w^  "^Pf"^^  "*^/f  ^  ^  ^nj  displeasure,  though  I  dare, 

A  worm  of  dust,  to  lift  my  voice  to  thee ;  in  mercy  spare,- 


ir^.   / 


8 


THE    PUOMISES. 


And  thougli  thou  art  so  terrible  and  greatly  to  be  I'oared  ; 
Although  by  angels  high  and  mighty,  thou  art,  0  God ! 

revered ; 
Tliough  mortals  cannot  bear  the  glory  of  thy  unveiled  face ; 
Though  mortal  eyes  cannot  endure  to  view  thy  dwelling- 
place  ; 
Although  the  human  form  that  dares  approach  thee  must 

expire. 
As  vv^hen  in  glory  thou  didst  stand  on  Sinai's  mount  of 

fire, 
And  in  a  voice  of  thunder  badst  the  trembling  crowd 

withdraw, 
And  set  thorn  bounds,  quaking  with  fear  and  overpowered 

with  awe, 
Lest  they  ir  some  unguarded  hour  should  pierce  the  fiery 

cloud 
That  hung  around  the  mountain's  brow,  thine  awful  form 

to  shroud, 
And  perish,  perish  for  the  rash  and  the  presumptuous  act ; 
Yet  I,  the  vilest  of  thy  works,  and  with  a  spirit  racked 
With  bitter  passions  and  dark  thoughts,  call  on  thy  holy 

name ; 
Nor  vainly  call ;  though  weak,  though  frail,  thy  mercy  I 

can  claim  ; 
Yes,  even  I,  a  thing  of  clay,  can  knetl  thy  throne  before, 
And  even  I  with  angels  can  thy  attributes  adore, 
And  unconsumed  ask  blessings  at  the  hand  which  shows 

the  way 
For  burning  orbs,  revolving  planets,  and  for  suns  to  stray. 
Yet  not  in  my  own  strength,  0  God  !  dare  I  approach  to 

thee  ; 
But  in  the  strength  of  thy  dear  don,  who  bled  and  died 

for  me, 
O,  not  for  merits  of  mine  own  dare  I  to  plead  my  cause, 
For  I  have  sinned,  and  'neath  my  feet  have  trampled  all 

thy  laws  ; 
Yet  my  Redeemer  pleads  for  me  before  thy  mighty  throne. 
And  though  thou  wilt  not  grant  a  boon  that 's  sought  by 

me  alone, 
■uaze  on  thy  Son,  thy  well-beloved  ;  'tis  in  his  name  I  dare 
To  offer  my  petition,  for  on  the  cursed  tree  he  bare 


i 


*  Free 


THE   PIIOMISES. 


9 


r  to  be  feared  ; 
u  art,  O  God ! 

unveiled  face ; 
thy  dwelling- 

ach  thee  must 

ai's  mount  of 

mbling  crowd 

I  overpowered 

lierce  the  fiery 

QC  awful  form 

imptnous  act ; 
ijrit  racked 

II  on  tliy  holy 

;,  thy  mercy  I 

hrone  before, 
lore, 
which  shows 

suns  to  stray, 
approach  to 

bled  and  died 

i  my  cause, 
trampled  all 

ighty  throne, 
i  's  sought  by 

5  name  I  dare 
3  bare 


My  sins  thine  anger  to  appease,  and  to  restore  a  riro 

J  ^"'  ^I"r"'  ''^  '^^""S^  ^^"^  ^^^  "P  *^^ir  prayers 
1  Then,  fur  his  sake  alone  Almicrlifu  r^^ 
I  Ana  whi.  H»  Mood  s^SZltL^ZX^Zoy. 
.  ^nd„yH|h  Wet  kindles  an  incense  holy,  pure  and 

I  ^"^  "t^^r""  "^  "'"  h.^nd  fc. -ery  slnnU,... 

^'^°  ^''trpiir"™"™ """ '"'""'  *»•'  «-7  thought 

'^'""n;rJ5"'""^''  *"•-"  ^'"'^''  -y  -orial  sight,  and  let 
In  tho  dark  vault  of  uncreated  ni^ht 

J  1.0  sons  of  G  od  together  shout  for  joy  T 

iv!'  M  ..f""'"'.*''"  ^"S^^^y  gleaming  polo, 
.e.ioW  the  new-born  earth  in  beauty  roll 

milf  ^  T-f  !""'"«  «P'"^'«^  ^'x'  holds  her  way 
Wule^sunlit  streams  of  glory  round  her  nlal^' 

ivnd  fadelel  T"' '"  ?"*T'  «'""'"<=°'«  Pressed, 
iiina  fadeless  flowers  adorn  her  spotless  breast ; 


10 


THE    PROMISES. 


And  golden  fruits,  like  which  nor  land  ncr  clime  ~ 
Has  e'er  produced  since  that  auspicious  time. 
The  mvrtle  and  the  noble  palm  arise, 
Bearing  sweet  incense  to  the  azure  skies, 
Witli  lofty  cedars,  pine  and  shapely  box, 
While  'neath  their  shadows  roam  the  gentle  flocks  ; 
And  in  the  boughs  the  pluraaged  songsters  sing 
In  notes  celestial,  or  with  outspread  wing 
Fly  far  aloft  and  cleave  the  balmy  air, 
Which  floats  around  pure  and  untainted  there, 
While  peaceful  streams  of  water  calmly  glide, 
Sparkling  like  gems,  and  bearing  with  their  tide 
A  gentle  strain  of  music  soft  and  low ; 
But  as  the  streamlets  widen  in  their  flow, 
The  strains  arise  louder  and  louder  still, 
Keechoed  by  spreading  grove  and  hill. 
And  brighter  yet  the  waving  waters  glance, 
Till  mingled  with  the  ocean's  broad  expanse. 
Which  through  the  day  reflects  the  sun  on  high, 
And  stars  at  eve  upon  its  bosom  lie. 

All  nature  then  in  living  verdure  smiled, 
Mingling  the  fair,  the  beautiful,  the  wild, 
In  pleasing  contrast ;  here,  a  varied  scene 
Of  shaggy  hills,  with  lovely  vales  between  ; 
There,  crystal  lakes  of  heaven's  delightful  blue, 
Fringed  with  green  shrubs  and  flowers  of  every  hue. 
All  nature  smiled ;  but  with  a  nobler  grace, 
And  sweeter  far,  she  showed  her  lovely  face 
In  Eden's  garden  ;  there  in  brightest  hues 
She  decked  each  lofty  tree ;  and  pearly  dews 
Adorned  the  bosom  of  the  thornless  rose 
And  snow-white  lilies  in  their  sweet  repose ; 
While  beauty  used  her  utmost  skill  and  power 
To  decorate  the  sacred  nuptial  bower. 


THE    rROMISES, 


11 


And  through  the  walks  a  noble  beinrr  trou. 
Made  m  the  image  of  his  glorious  God  ;    ' 
|.rect_  in  form,  graceful  in  every  limb, 
|or  sickness  ne'er  had  cast  its  blight  o'er  Mm  • 
His  brow  unruffled  by  a  single  care, 
*  or  innocence  and  purity  were  there  : 
His  eye  the  index  of  a  happy  soul, 
I  Jnstamed  by  sin  or  sorrow's  dark  control : 
lis  heart,  the  seat  of  holiness  and  love 
We  as  the  angels'  in  their  homes  above : 
^here  one  unholy  thought  had  never  been, 
or  he  had  never  felt  the  curse  of  sin 
^nd  by  his  side  stood  one  more  dear  than  life 
Jeloved  next  to  his  God,  his  smiling  wife  :      ' 
rentle  and  fair,  in  every  motion  grace, 
\^ith  heaven's  angelic  light  upon  her  face ; 
imid  and  loving,  and  untaught  by  art, 
Vnd  heaven  itself  within  her  sinless  heart. 

With  arm  in  arm  the  guileless  beings  rove 

Llong  the  river  through  the  spreading  grove  : 
Ihey  tend  the  luscious  fruits  and  fragrant  flowers 
And  deck  with  brighter  charms  the  blooming  bowers  • 

Communing  m  a  calm  and  happy  frame 
r  singing  praises  to  their  Maker's  name  : 

V^hile  angels  often  left  their  starry  home. 

Lwhile  in  Eden's  Paradise  to  roam  ; 

Lnd  even  God  would  from  his  throne  descend. 
Lo  hold  commune  with  m£  n,  his  sinless  friend. 

7-?i:  ^.uW  ^.'''"S'  •  —-^^^^^  where'er  ye  trod 
W    ^!w?^  '""'^^  °^  ^^  approving  God  ; 
Jest  with  the  presence  of  a  heavenly  guest ; 

est  with  a  stainless  heart,  a  quiet  breast ; 

>iest  with  a  home  nrhioh  a««oic  ^:»i-x  .  j-_ 
J  , ,  -  •^•--^-uio  iiiigiii,  uuure, 

low  could  ye  seek,  or  even  loish  for  more  ? 


s 


12 


THE   rilOMISES. 


But  lo  !  the  So. pent  speaks  !  — the  woman  hears  ! 
His  temp  ing  words  flill  softly  on  her  ears  : 
And  lui-ed  by  these,  unheeding  God's  command, 
She  rashly  stretches  forth  her  eager  hand. 
U,  hve,  forbear  !  touch  not  that  fatal  tree  ; 
ihe  penal  y  is  death  to  thine  and  thee. 
■  Beware  !  beware  !  earth  from  its  centre  shrieks  - 
A  voice  from  unborn  millions  loudly  speaks  ; 
Beware  !  beware  !  touch  not  that  fatal  tree, 

Iheir  happiness  or  woe  depends  on  thee 
O,  wretched  Eve  !  the  awful  deed  is  done ; 
A  robe  of  darkness  veils  the  shining  sun  : 
Ihe  ammate    -eation  loudly  groans^ 
And  senseless  things  give  back  responsive  moans. 
0,  Eve  !  thy  destiny  is  sealed  ;  and  thou 
Art  ,allen  from  thy  lofty  station  now  : 
And  Adam  too,  obedient  at  thy  calls, 
Tempted  by  thee,  eats  of  the  fruit  and  falls  • 
While  nature  trembles  with  convulsive  sighs 
And  Innocence  from  Eden's  garden  flies. 

0,  guilty  pair !  well  may  ye  shudder  now  - 
Well  may  the  crimson  flush  attaint  your  brow  - 

plr   1n?^;rn't  V^f^^'  ^^^  your  shame- 
For  lo  !  the  God  of  h'eaven  calls  on  your  name  • 
And  how  can  ye  unto  that  voice  reply  ?  ' 

How  can  ye  stand  beneath  his  searching  eye  ? 

With  drooping  head,  the  trembling  pair  advance 
And  read  their  sentence  at  a  single  IlLer 
Then  bathed  m  tears,  the  flrst  in  Eden  shed, 
With  hearts  bursting  between  suspense  and  dread 

They  bow  their  heads  beneath  the  bitter  ^curse 
Pronounced  on  them,  and  on  the  bloomin/r  earth 
^-nu  on  a  race  as  yoi  unsprung  to  birth.  ~ 


THE   PROMISES.' 

lut  with  that  curse  a  soothing  promise  came, 
Fhich  gently  oa  mod  remorse'  undying  flame 
Ind  b  d^  sweet  hope  within  their  bosoms  spring 
ri  h  beaming  eye  and  healing  on  its  wincr :  __^' 
Iho  berpent  on  the  woman's  Seed  shalllread, 
^e  woman's  Seed  shall  bruise  the  Serpent's  head  " 
ind  as  they  left  the  gates  of  Paradise, 

r.d  Jfl  ^  K  "f^^^?-  ^^^"^^^  ^^"^  ^^^'^'^^  eyes,-- 
^d  as  they  bade  a  long,  a  last  farewell     ^ 
evry  balmy  grove  and  leafy  dell, 

Id  saw  with  grief,  where'er  they  turned  their  eve 
I  world  m  fading  verdure  round  Ithem  lie,  ^  ' 

hd  felt  the  curse  upon  their  foreheads  burn  — 
bor  dust  thou  art,  and  shalt  to  dust  return  "- 

fcTMr  ''''^'\^'''  *«  <^-k  despair'; 
[lien,  lo!  the  promise  beamed  in  splendor  there 

tuT?u  ^'^^*  "^^"^^  *^^^r  pathway  shed   ^ 
d  bade  them  raise  from  earth  the  dro^opTng  head 

I  night  with  chilling  dews  came  sadly  on, 
With  aching  limbs  and  with  a  fevered  brow 
»ere  pain  and  sorrow  dwelt  together  now,' 

id  then  looked  back,  with  sad  and  mournful  rraze 
scenes  attendant  on  their  sinless  days  ^      ' 

ter!.  hv  flf "''  ^'^'  f  ^"'^  garden' barred 
bm  them  by  flaming  sword  and  heavenly  miard 

V  wept  the  tears  that  anguish  gives  alonf 
t  through  those  tears  the  promise  radiant   hone 
[when  the  parents,  racked  with  parents'  woe 
e  d  their  hopes,  their  fondest  hopes,  laid  Z 
d  aw  the  monster.  Death,  in  deadi;  hue,      ' 
Iveil  his  face  unto  their  frighted  view         ' 
Id  saw  him  use  his  first  relentless  dart 
Ipierce  their  son's,  their  gentle  Abel's 'heart  - 


18 


they  gazed  upon  that  son's  cold 


Qrow. 


-e  ii|)«  that  gave  no  tender  greeting  now 


14 


V 


THE   PROMISES. 


li  f  "^  ^f  life-blood,  oa  that  fatal  moru, 
T^i^J  5  brother's  hand,  and  their  first-born, 
And  the  dark  brand,  the  everlasting  stain. 
Ihat  rested  on  the  brow  of  their  own  Caii 
And  knew  that  this,  and  Abel's  life-blood  spilt 
Were  the  rewards  of  their  own  sin  and  guift  1 
Remorse  their  bosoms  filled ;  and  woe  and  c^re 
Had  almost  overwhelmed  the  wretched  pair, 
When  the  bright  Promise  rose,  by  God  decked,  . 
And  pointed  them  unto  the  future  Seed, 

An j"'^  ""u^^u^  ^'"^  '^""^^  ^"^'^  the  Serpent's  head 
And  crush  the  monster,  Death,  beneath  his  tread      ' 

And  when  at  last  they  closed  their  weary  eyes 
T  was  with  a  hope  that  bade  their  spirits  rie^    ' 
Triumphant  over  every  shade  of  gloom. 
Triumphant  over  death  and  o'er  the  tomb, 
^or,  Jo     the  promise  pointed  to  a  day  I 

When  their  own  Seed  would  break  the  Serpent's  swo  J 
And  whispered  that  that  self-same  seed  w?uM  win    1 
Chains  for  that  Serpent's  offspring  Death  and  ^n 
And  well  they  knew  that  wheS  DLKwei^^^^^^^^^ 

That  then  their  bodies,  freed  from  earthly  stain        ' 
Would  roam  the  fields  of  Paradise  again  •         ' 


PART   ri. 

r     Age  never  dims  God's  everlasting  brow: 
\  Creation's  dawn  found  hiin  the  same  as  no^  • 
WMr/^^;  l^'^^Sh  its  eternal  reign, 
A  r!i  i      [''i  '^'"°''  ^"  *^^t  ^«d  i"  vain.  m 

Th 'pS  ^l"f  I^^'^f  P--^  -ee  Adan:  eaniedi 


\ 


moru, 
5rst-born, 
stain, 
1  Cain, 
lood  spilt, 
id  guilt,  — 
3  and  care 
d  pair, 
•d  decreed,  . 
id. 

Serpent's  head, 
h  his  tread. 

wearj  eyes, 
rits  rise 

1, 
mb. 

Serpent's  sway 
■  would  win 
ith  and  Sin. 
power  was  o'erj 
i'ay  no  more ; 
'ly  stain, 
n.- 


'w; 
now; 

n. 

Adair  earuedi 


TUE   PROMISES. 

LIthough  his  children,  mingling  with  the  day, 
lad,  like  their  father,  also  passed  away,—  ^ 
Lithough  the  earth  had  lost  its  smilin/air 
nd  i   ,n  s  garden  bloomed  no  longertire;e,  - 
Llthouga  the  waving  flood  had  swept  it  o'er, 
Ind  deluged  It  from  blooming  shore  to  shore  - 
hough  Noah's  sons  had  yielded  up  their  brea^ 

^ad  slumbered  in  the  icy  arms  of  death^I       ' 
hough  sin  and  wickedness  the  sway  had  gained 
nd  o'er  the  hearts  of  men  ^premely  rei|ned  -1 

Lithough  they  cast  aside  the  laws  of  God!! 

.et  that  offended  God  had  still  a  plan 
n  love  and  mercy  for  degraded  man. 

Behold  a  pilgrim  stand  on  Moreh's  plains 

^nexile  iron,  his  home  and  native  land, 
Powmg  submissive  to  his  God's  command 
And  with  a  faith  which  truly  soared  on  win^s 
i.  nfettered  by  the  weight  of  Earthly  things   ^ 
le  leaned  upon  the  mighty  arm  of  God,^ 
nd  farther  on  the  weary  pilgrim  trod, 
Lili   Canaan  gained,  once  more  the  great  command 
N  on  his  ear:  "Arise,  survey  the  land  .'^"""""^ 

feeW^V'^^'K^"'  ^'^^^^^'-  '-  -to  thee 
^  give  it  all ,  as  far  as  thou  canst  see. 

nd  Toll       "  ^'  f  '""^  "P««  the  shore, 
r,l     i/^'''''  ^^"  ^^"^  f«r  evermore." 
[  Jw?     i^""^^  ''  ^'"'  ^^ter  year  had  past,  - 
^ud  were  those  promises  fulHlled  at  last  ? 
>  d  he  obtain  the  land  for  which  he  left 

bod^oi'v    '"'''  f  ^"^"^^  '-^"^  ^'^^^  bereft? 
^od  gave  him  no  inheritance  thereon  • 

»io,  not  enough  to  plat;e  hi*«  f^-^f 


16 


16 


TII13   PROMISES. 


And  yet  he  died  in  faith ;  for  from  aflir 
He  caught  the  gleaming  of  a  glorious  star, 
VVhose  ri.sms  would  announce  the  promised  Seed 

in  J  r  '^r ;'  "."'^^"^  ^^^^^  b^  ^^^^«t  indeed  "' 
And,  though  he  found  no  habitation  there, 

He  saw  by  faith  a  city  pure  and  fair, 

Built  by  his  God  ;  and  well  he  knew  one  day 

Hi    feet  would   hrough  that  golden  city  stray,  - 

That,  though  cold  death  his  body  now  mi crht  chain 

Th^t'tZ"  •'  ^"f  r  "^.'  ^"^^^^  ^^-^  band^s  in  twab, 
Ihat  then  immortal  and  with  rapture  thrilled 

Ho  should  behold  God's  promises  fulfilled 

He  died  in  faith,  with  spirit  unappalled  ; 
And  hein  whom  his  Seed  was  to  be  called 
lieard  the  same  promise  to  himself  addressed  : 
In    hy  Seed  shall  the  sens  of  earth  be  blest. 
1  will  perform  my  oath,  and  to  thy  hand 
-L>eliver  all  this  country  and  this  land  " 
And  yet  he  died  a  stranger,  like  his  sire  ; 
And  like  him  with  a  faith  that  dared  aspire 
Above  all  earthly  things,  and  still  believ-e 
What  God  had  promised  he  should  yet  receive 
His  son  a  wanderer,  doomed  awhile  to  roam     ' 
Without  a  shelter  and  without  a  home, 
As  the  dark  shades  of  night  stole  on  apace, 
Made  the  damp  earth  his  only  resting-place, 
While  heaven's  cold  dews  upon  his  b?ow  were  shed 
And  stones  for  pillows  placed  beneath  his  head       ' 

The  God  of  Abraham  declared  to  him, 
"  Ihe  land  whereon  thou  liest  I  will  eive 
To  thee,  and  those  who  after  thee  shall  live. 
Ihy  heed  shall  spread  abroad  from  east  to  west 
And  in  that  Seed  shall  all  the  earth  be  blesi'' 


afar 
us  star, 
romised  Seed, 
ist  indeed." 

there, 
I*, 

V  one  day 
city  stray,  — 
w  might  chain, 
'  bands  in  twain, 
re  thrilled, 
Ifilled. 

palled ; 
called, 
ddressed  : 
be  blest, 
land 
I." 

sire ; 
aspire 
lieve 
3t  receive. 

0  roam 
e, 

apace, 
-place, 

ow  were  shed, 
L  his  head, 
ew  dim, 

ive 

1  live. 
st  to  west, 
3  blest." 


THE   PROMISKS. 

Vet  after  many  a  year  had  rolled  awav 
And  he  of  bitter  grief  had  been  the  p/eV  - 

And  causing  ev,;  ,!?„trance  To^^^ftl^i^;^^  ''^''^ 
But  TX^T^''}'  S^^«'  *J^«  future  saw    ' 

^father's  sJi:Ct^i:::^^^^y  ^ 

S  jST"^  "'«'  ^'"^  "  humble  brow '- 
■Jill  ^hiloh  come,  whose  nVht  it  i^fn  r.' 
Jet  in  the  Sfng™!  It/SffiL, 
Bowng  ,„  bondage  at  a  tyrantfnod    ' 


17 


18 


THE   PROMISES. 


Nor  did  the  breeze  receive  those  cries  alone ; 

They  mounted  up  to  the  Eternal  Throne, 

They  reached  the  Ear  that  naught  could  ever  close 
To  the  complaints  of  man  or  to  his  woes. 
God  saw  the  yoke  of  bondage  that  tlicy  wore, 
lie  «aw  the  burdens  that  they  daily  bore, 
And  raised  a  great  deliverer  to  unbind 
The  fetters  round  his  race  so  closely  twined; 
To  lead  them  unto  Canaan's  lovely  shore. 
The  Canaan  promised  them  so  long  before. 

And  many  a  sign  the  God  of  Jacob  wrought, 
And  many  a  plague  on  Egypt's  tyrant  brouglit ; 
The  rivers  turned  to  streams  of  stagnant  gore. 
And  loathsome  vermin  covered  all  the  shore ; 
Locusts  and  storms  of  hail  destroyed  the  land  ; 
Disease  and  famine  stalked  forth  hand  in  hand  ; 
Thick  darkness  reigned,  and  day  became  as  night, 
The  sun  refused  to  shed  his  genial  light ; 
Men  with  their  flocks  in  death  lay  side  by  side  ; 
The  first-born  son  in  ev'ry  dwelling  died 
Throughout  the  land,  from  Pharaoh's  regal  heir 
Unto  the  child  of  poverty  and  care ; 
While  piercing  wails  alone  the  silence  broke. 
And  haughty  Pharaoh  trembled  'neath  the  stroke. 
But  when  the  first  rude  pang  of  grief  was  o'er, 
His  stony  heart  grew  harder  than  before  ; 
With  fury  armed  towards  Israel's  camp  he  drew. 
While  a  thick  cloud  concealed  it  from  his  view  / 
But  through  that  cloud  God  cast  one  searching  lookl 
And  Pharaoh's  host  with  fear  and  horror  shook. 
The  raging  sea,  that  made  so  dry  a  path 
For  Israel,  on  Pharaoh  spends  its  wrath  ; 
The  trembling  waves,  that  shrunk  at  God's  commandl 
Bursting  their  limits,  rush  on  either  hand ;  ' 


THE    PKOMTSES. 


19 


ies  alone ; 
hrone,  — 
could  ever  close 
woes. 

tliey  wore, 
'  bore, 
)ind 

I  twined; 
shore, 
before. 

3ob  wrought, 
mt  brought; 
^nant  gore, 
the  shore; 
d  the  land ; 
md  in  hand ; 
came  as  nifiht, 
ght ; 

ide  by  side ; 
died 

's  regal  heir 
> 

ce  broke, 
ith  the  stroke, 
ef  was  o'er, 
jfore ; 

imp  he  drew, 
m.  his  view ; 
searching  look 
error  shook, 
path 
rath  ; 

Grod's  commandj 
hand ; 


Il.-her  they  mount,  with  loud  and  deafening  roar 
And  Piiaraoh's  legions  sink  to  rise  no  morej 
IV  hiie,  safely  landed  on  the  other  coast, 
Sehold  God's  children,  Israel's  favored  host. 

The  God  who  led  them  forth  from  Egypt's  land 
^ith  his  ^'  high  arm  "  and  with  his  mighty  hand, 

orsook  them  not;  but  still  stood  by  theii- sido 
Their  souls  to  cheer,  their  weary  steps  to  guide ; 
^y  day  a  cloudy  pillar  round  them  spread? 
L  fiery  one  at  night  their  footsteps  led. 
ind  when  at  length  their  lips  grew  parched  and  dry. 

e  saw  their  wants,  he  heard  their  mournful  cry  - 
le  smote  the  rock  ;  the  gushing  waters  haste,     ' 
Lnd  fountains  murmur  in  the  desert  waste 
Lnd  when  pale  hunger  came  with  meagre  air, 
ind  their  sad  souls  were  sinking  to  despair, 
[e  bade  the  sky  aside  its  portals  spread, 
Lnd  sinful  man  partook  of  angels'  bread. 

And  while  they  roamed,  a  sad  and  homeless  band. 
Phroughout  a  dreary  and  a  desert  land, 
0  Smais  mount  the  God  of  glory  came, 
^nd  binai s  mount  was  wrapt  in  dazzling  flame; 
.oud  thunders  roared,  and  tempests  gathered  round 

he  mountain  trembled  to  its  lowest  base, 
Vnd  bowed  in  reverence  to  its  Maker's  face. 

And  then,  in  tones  of  many  waters  loud, 
lis  glorious  iorm  enveloped  in  a  cloud 
.od  gave  commandments  on  the  mountain's  brow 
0  Moses,  Israel's  mediator  now ; 
^nd  in  each  great  command  for  holy  rites 
lainly  foretold,  by  shadows  and  hv  Ur^J 


i 


!  ; 


allilll; 


20 


THE    PROMISES. 


0^  <^*ong.,  ^tkju.  sed  Seed,  frbo  vot  should  rise, 
And  gf  t'#  himself  i,  perfect  sacrmce. 

And  Moses  from  that  time,  as  God  decreed, 
PfOeJAJwed  the  coming  ol    he  promised  Seed  ; 
"  O  Igrad  !  a  Prophet  shall  a])pear, 
Raised  hy  th.   J^ord  thy  God;  llim  s.  'It  thou  hear. 
But  whosoever  v>yill  not  hoed  his  word, 
Against  him  shall  the  Lord  of  hosts  be  stirred  ~ 
Shall  cast  him  oflf  forever ;  in  disgrace 
That  soul  shall  perish  from  among  his  race." 

When  Israel  saw  the  lamb  to  slaughter  led, 
And  their  own  sins  laid  on  its  guiltless  head,  • 
Each  crimson  stream  their  spirits  seemed  to  lead. 
And  point  them  i\  rward  to  the  future  Seed, 
Whose  flowing  blood  a  guilty  world  would  trace, 
And  make  atonement  for  a  sin-cursed  race, 
-^d  when  they  saw  the  brazen  serpent  raised 
*'U.Vixt  heaven  and  earth,  and  on  that  serpent  gazed, 
\nd  felt  the  bitter  sting  of  death  withdraw, 
Their  joyful  eyes  a  striking  emblem  saw 
Of  that  same  Seed  to  whom  the  sons  of  men 
Would  look  for  life,  eternal  life,  again. 

For  long,  long  years,  within  that  dreary  place. 
The  sons  of  Israel  roamed  a  lonely  lace ; 
Against  them  many  a  hostile  nation  rose ; 
Where'er  they  turned  they  met  with  deadly  foes ; 
But  still  their  gracious  God  with  them  remained, 
And  everywhere  a  mighty  victory  gained. 
And  when  proud  Moab,  fearing  Israel's  host, 
That  lay  encamped  upon  the  neighboring  coast. 
Sent  royal  princes  with  their  costly  bribes, 
To  gain  from  P:ilaam's  lips  on  Israel's  tribes 
A  fearful  cur^e,  'hm  B*iiaam's  lips  instead 
Breathed  forth  ?•,  i    &inr  upon  Israel's  head. 


should  rise, 


I  decrt'od, 
cd  S(!ud : 

ftftlt  thou  hear. 

h 

)0  stirred  — 

;e 


s  race. 


)) 


THE    PROMISKS. 

|;nbribed  by  gifts,  and  fearless  now  of  man 
Inspired  by  God,  the  prophet  thus  h  gan :  ' 
.' A  bnlhant  Star  shall  out  of  Jacob  rise, 
Whose  splendor  shall  illume  the  darkened  skies- 

a'T  ^^'  ^""'^°  ^  °»g»^*3^  sceptre  spring 
A..d  with  It  everlasting  glory  briL      ^     ^' 

I  rom  Ja^ob  lie  shall  come,  whose°  ulin..  hand 

I  a  1  snn  e  thee,  Moab,  and  possess  theland, 

r^nd  us  domimou  and  his  powerful  sway,       ' 

ind  his  firm  throne,  shall  never  pass  awly  " 


21 


;hter  led, 
3s  head,  • 
med  to  lead. 

Seed, 
rould  trace, 

race. 
it  raised 

serpent  gazed, 
idraw, 
iw 

>f  men 
1. 

•eary  place, 
;e: 


PART   III. 

How  strange  and  wondrous  are  the  ways  of  God  f 
■e  mighty  angels,  sound  his  praise  abroad' 
nd  puny  mortal,  bend,  0,  bend  the  knee, ' 
Lna  own  his  love,  his  matchless  love,  for  thee  • 
.^rom  sea  to  sea,  from  spreading  pole  to  pole    ' 
,.et  one  loud  song  of  adoration  roll  •        ^     ' 
jet  every  ransomed  soul  on  earth  proclaim 
^lory  and  honor  to  Jehovah's  name. 

Where  lofty  trees  their  spreading  branches  twin«r1 
Tid  formed  a  cooling  shade,  a  youth  reclLed,  '^' 
'ith  beaming  eye  and  with  a  tender  air, 

a tchmg  his  flocks  that  gambolled  round  him  there 
iiat  gayly  roamed  the  green  plains  far  and  wide 
hen  closely  pressed  unto  their  shepherd's  sicS 
^    t  to  Inten  to  the  rapturous  swell 
't  wcjr  r  ,'js  hari:  '  r:y,  that  sweetly  fell 
lom  ^a.p  and  heart  attuned  to  praise  and  love 

concert  with  the  heavenly  choirs  above.  ' 

quiet^sm^ile  played  o'er  that  youthful  face, 
^ne.c  «ariw  uistrust  had  never  found  a  place, 


'♦• 


i 


22 


THE   PROMISES. 


For  hope  and  faith  unshaken  claimed  a  part 
Within  his  pure,  his  free,  and  humble  heart ; 
And  happiness,  and  love  and  perfect  joy. 
Looked  down,  and  smiled  upon  the  shepherd  boy. 

Ah  !  little  dreamed  he,  in  his  low  estate, 
That  he  was  destined  for  a  loftier  fate. 
The  shepherd's  life  for  him  had  blissful  charms ; 
He  found  his  joy  in  sweet  Contentment's  arms ; 
His  harp  his  sole  companion,  and  his  care 
Only  the  flock  that  nestled  round  him  there. 
But  soon  the  shepherd's  gentle  hand  shall  lead 
Another  flock,  a  nobler  flock  shall  feed. 
Then  strike  thy  harp,  and  louder  anthems  sing ; 
For,  son  of  Jesse,  thou  art  Israel's  king! 
The  shepherd's  staff  recedes  before  thy  face. 
The  golden  sceptre  takes  the  vacant  place ; 
Behold  the  crown  with  wondrous  splendor  rise, 
And  pass  before  thine  almost  dazzled  eyes ! 
God's  chosen  prophet  has  already  shed 
The  anointing  oil  upon  thy  youthful  head. 
Rise,  son  of  Jesse !  take  the  glorious  throne 
Prepared  for  thee,  and  for  thy  seed  alone. 

Through  perils  dark  the  youthful  shepherd  passed, 
But  saw  his  haughty  toes  subdued  at  last ; 
His  throne  established,  with  a  promise  sure 
That  David's  throne  should  evermore  endure  ; 
That  though  all  other  kingdoms  might  decay. 
Yet  David's  kingdom  ne'er  should  pass  away ; 
And  that  the  "  Seed,"  promised  long  years  before. 
Should  take  the  crown  and  rule  for  evermore. 

And  oft  the  Psalmist,  with  prophetic  gaze. 
Looked  forward  through  the  lapse  of  future  da  vs. 


I  a  part 
e  heart ; 

joy, 

ihepherd  boy. 

estate, 
te. 

ful  charms ; 
jnt's  arms ; 
I  care 
Q  there, 
shall  lead 

3d. 

hems  sing ; 
ing! 
ly  face, 
place ; 
mdor  rise, 
I  eyes ! 

3d 

tiead. 

throne 

lone. 

shepherd  passed 
last ; 
ie  sure 
endure ; 
t  decay, 
ss  away ; 
years  before, 
ermore. 


ic  gaze, 
future  davs. 


TH^  PROMISES. 

-And  tuned  his  harp  in  heavenly  notes  to  sing 
Of  David's  heir  and  Zion's  mighty  king. 
He  sang  his  praises,  and  extolled  his  name. 
And  then  he  sang  of  misery  and  shame  — 
Of  the  dark  cUp,  the  fearful  cup  of  woe 
Of  anguish  which  no  human  heart  might  know, 
Ot  deadly  foes  and  a  deceitful  friend  • 
Of  love  and  mercy  that  he  should  extend 
|Unto  the  vilest,  if  with  humble  air 
•^hey  would  but  lift  the  contrite  spirit's  prayer: 
tie  told  of  dangers  he  was  doomed  to  meet 
'>f  scorn  and  shame,  of  pierced  hands  and  feet, 
)t  death  with  all  its  horrors  and  its  pains ; 
ind  then,  m  louder  tones,  and  joyful  strains, 
le  sang  of  victory,  and  redeeming  love, 
md  of  the  seat  at  God's  right  hand  above. 
Where  the  arisen  One  would  sit  in  power 
^glorious  Priest,  until  the  awful  hour. 
When  he  would  leave  his  Father's  dazzling  throne, 
^nd  as  a  King  come  to  receive  his  own, 
While  all  his  foes  would  own  him  as  their  Lord, 
^nd  at  his  hand  receive  a  just  reward. 

tT  ^  !°f¥'J.°"^  *''^^"  of  prophets  and  of  seers 
tlad  told  his  coming  from  unnumbered  years 
And,  pointing  forward  with  exultinxr  eyes.     ' 
Had  longed  to  see  his  brilliant  star  arise, 
hi  him  had  centred  every  fond  desire, 
Lnd  hallowed  lips,  touched  with  celestial  fire, 
fThus  sang  of  Jjim,  the  great  Anointed  One : 
I   A  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a  son  : 

Bxirl  •  ^/'^^^^^'^  ^^^^^'9  glorious  throne  ; 
With  judgment  he  shall  rule,  and  rule  alone  • 
jiiis  government  shall  never,  never  cease ;      ' 
i^^x-  «amu  mui  uu  the  mighty  Prince  of  Peace. 


28 


24 


THE  PROMISES. 


On  him  the  spirit  of  the  lord  shall  rest; 
10  him  the  poor  the  weak  and  the  oppressed, 

Sh      k''  \'  r'^^i''  ""^  ''■«  powerful  fom 
Shall  be  a  shelter  from  the  raging  storm. 

stJZr,  ^'f'"' '"  '"'^  ^'Sht  the  same, 
Shall  bo  h  adore  lus  great  and  holy  name ; 

His  gentle  voice  shall  soothe  the  aching  heart 

And  bid  the  load  of  woe  and  grief  depart  • 

His  own  soft  hand  shall  wipe  away  each  tear, 

H.S  beaming  sm.le  disperse  each  gathering  fear  : 

nl  !  T-  ''"i'  ^'^Pfo'ioy;  the  blind  shfu  To 
The  captive,  from  his  prison-house  set  free,  l 

With  rapturous  shouts  shall  burst  his  bands  in  twain 

The  dumb  shal  sing,  and,  lo  !  the  leaf  shall  hear- 
That  tender  voice  shall  charm  the  deadened  ear" 
And  those  who  s.t  in  darkness  and  in  night 
bhall  nail  with  joy  the  rising  beams  of  light. 

And  IT  ■"'■"^  ^'■"A^'f  """""'■'"^  floot  shall  feed,  I 
And  unto  »creams  of  hvmg  waters  lead : 

While,  circled  m  his  everlasting  arms. 

Their  sorrows  o'er,  and  hushed  their  wild  alarms 

^Z  H'^  'T^  °^.  ^''  -^^^  fl»*  ^hall  res? 
And  find  a  shelter  in  the  Saviour's  breast. 
Ihe  lowliest  sons  of  earth  shall  freely  share 
His  radiant  smile  and  his  protecting ^ref 
And  burdened  souls  with  joy  shall  flew  a  place 
Prepared  for  them,  and  rush  to  his  embrace  • 
While  tears  of  penitence  shall  freely  flow 
And  holy  love  within  each  bosom  gldVr. 

A  voice  the  lonely  wilderness  shall  cheer 
And  loudly  shall  proclaim  his  advent  near  ? 
Make_stra,ght  his  pathB ;  prepare,  prepare  the  w»v . 
-  VI,  lu :  a  uoa  appears  i  hail,  happy  "day !       '    ^  ' 


V 


.11  rest ; 
B  oppressed, 
erful  form 

storm, 
the  same, 
Y  name ; 
Jhing  heart, 

depart ; 

each  tear, 
itheriDg  fear ; 
lind  shall  see ; 
set  free, 

is  bands  in  twain, 
;  chain. 

leaf  shall  hear ; 
leadened  ear ; 
in  night 
'  of  light. 

flock  shall  feed, 
ead; 

IS, 

'  wild  alarms, 
all  rest, 
Teast. 
y  share 
care ; 

iew  a  place 
mbrace ; 
flow, 

cheer, 
near; 

3pare  the  way  I 
day ! 


THE  PROMISES. 

When  every  lowly  valley  shall  arise, 
And  every  mountain,  towering  to  the  skies, 
Shall  leave  its  proud  and  its  txalted  seat. 
And  fal   in  awe  and  reverence  at  his  feet 
Tnf "A    ""  ^v^  ^^^^^^m  tops  begone, 

Lift  un  thl^  ^""P"'  'i  '^^'  auspidous  dawn ; 
Bid  Ztl  ^^'""\^°^  spread  the  news  abroad  ; 
Bid  Judah's  sons  behold  their  gracious  God. 

Th^^  {»*«/cessor  comes,  and  on  his  brow 
The  helmet  of  salvation  glistens  now; 

k.^    %  r"""'.'  y^  followers,  arise  ! 

bhake  ofi^  the  mists  that  dim  your  sleeping  eyes  • 

G  trth'wXT^^^^^  ^^^"  ^^"^  P^^-'^l  ^--dV 
Ye  alLn  J   •  ^  V-^"  "^"^P  *o  meet  your  Lord. 
I  e  aliens  !  view  his  ensigns  all  unfurled. 
Inviting  volunteer,  from  all  the  world: 
Hasten  with  bold  and  with  undaunted  ^oul, 
And  in  his  .I8LS  your  Gentile  names  enroll. 
A  Witness  comes,  —  the  faithful  and  the  true  • 
He  comes  to  make  a  covenant  with  you     ''"'' 

A;,/Tr^^'?*.^^''  ^^^*^°  *o  his  voice. 
And  at  the  teachings  of  his  word  rejoice 
A  Saviour  comes  ;  0,  ye  who  thirst  and  sigh 
For  living  waters,  come,  and  freely  buy  '   ^ 
A  jeat  Kedeemer  comes ;  0,  Zion,  sing, 
And  hail  wi^h  joy  thy  Saviour  and  thy  Kinc. » 
0  captive  Daughter  !  burst  thy  heavy  band's* 
Receive  a  full  redemption  at  his  handl 

A  Sufferer  comes;  he  breasts  the  raging  storm 
With  pensive  face  and  with  disfigured  fbrm;         ' 
There  is  no  beauty  in  that  langutd  eye, 
No  musie  in  that  low  and  mournful  sigh ; 

'r'^^'Tlf  "J"^  1"""'*  ^"'^  displays. 
To  mot  there  the  worWa  admiring  LL  ; 

O 


25 


26 


THE   PROMISES. 


No  charm  for  earth's  proud  sons  in  that  sad  tone  ; 
And,  though  he  comes  to  seek  and  save  his  own, 
His  own  receive  him  not ;  in  proud  disdain 
Ihey  smile  to  \kw  his  sorrows  and  his  pain  : 
Un  his  devoted  head  their  malice  wreak, 
bpit  on  his  face,  and  smite  his  pallid  cheek. 
In  him  no  guilt  is  found,  no  sin  revealed, 
But  With  his  stripes  a  guilty  world  is  healed. 

A  Victim  comes,  to  cruel  slaughter  led  ; 
The  curse  of  God  is  resting  on  his  head ; 
bilent  he  stands  before  the  judgment-seat, 
^0  eye  to  pity,  and  no  friend  to  meet ; 
Oppressed  and  tortured,  while  the  world  despise, 
iiehold;  behold,  the  guiltless  victim  dies  ' 
He  sufiers  with  the  wicked  and  the  slave, 
And  with  the  rich  he  finds  a  quiet  grave. 
But  Death  has  lost  his  power;  he  strives  in  vain 
4^k  i".  Captive ;  lo,  he  lives  again  ! 

Beholds  the  ransomed  ones  for  whom  he  died 
As  his  reward,  and  he  is  satisfied. 


i  |i 


PART   IV. 

« 

O,  FALLEN  man  !  lift  up  thy  weeping  eyes. 
Why  dost  thou  longer  mourn  ?  awake,  arise  : 
hoY  thou  art  destined  for  a  fate  so  hi^h, 
That  the  Almighty  God  descends  to  die, 
Ihut  thou  mayst  live.    0,  raise  a  joyful  j 
i^or  praise  and  honor  to  his  name  belong. 

The  lonely  mourner,  who  had  wept  and  sighed 
U  er  Judah's  sms,  ingratitude  and  pride, 
Looked  far  away,  and,  through  his  fallmr,  f. 
He  caught  a  lively  glimpse  of  future  yeara ; 


song ! 


THr  PROMISES. 


m 


in  that  sad  tone ; 
i  save  his  own, 
id  disdain 
id  his  pain  ; 
wreak, 
Hid  cheek. 
3vealed, 
1  is  healed. 

liter  led ; 
I  head ; 
)nt-seat, 
eet  ; 

world  despise, 
tt  dies ! 
5  slave, 
grave. 

strives  in  vain 
igain ! 
>m  he  died 


ig  eyes, 
ke,  arise ; 
bigh, 
>  die, 

•jful  song ! 
elong. 

)t  and  sighed 
ride, 

3  years  j 


And  tremb  mg  with  delight,  he  loudly  sung. 
While  far  o'er  hill  and  vale  the  accents  runff  : 
*  ilie  time  will  come  when,  Israel's  trials  o'er. 
The  promise  made  to  him  long  years  before 
Will  surely  be  fulfilled ;  for  in  those  days, 
A  righteous  Branch  the  Lord  our  God  shall  raise 
J  rom  David's  house,  to  David's  throne  an  heir 
Whose  princely  brow  the  royal  crown  shall  wear. 
He  comes  —and  't  is  a  guilty  world  to  bless,— 
He  comes,  he  comes, -the  Lord,  our  Righteousness ! " 

0,  glorious  title !  other  names  have  charms, 
But  none  can  ease  the  sinner's  .did  alarms. 
When,  trembling  'neath  the  heavy  load  of  sin 
And  viewing  naught  save  guilt  and  crime  within. 
Like  that  sweet  name ;  the  mourning  sinner  hears 
Ihe  joyful  sound,  and  all  his  guilty  fears 
Are  banished  from  the  dark  and  wretched  soul 
Where  they  have  held  unlimited  control, 
And  in  their  place  joy,  peace  and  love,  abound; 
And  happiness  forever  hovers  round 
Those  who  their  own  unworthiness  confess. 
And  own  the  Lord  their  perfect  righteousness. 

The  Prophet  ceased,  his  accents  died  away  • 
Another  caught  the  burden  of  his  lay ; 
Foretold  the  coming  of  the  promised  Seed, 
The  gentle  Shepherd,  who  should  kindly  lead 
His  scattered  flock,  and  bring  them  back  once  more 
10  verdant  pastures  by  the  river's  shore, 
To  heal  their  wounds,  to  bid  their  griefs' be  still, 
And  teed  them  all  on  Zion's  holy  hill. 

A  nflTif.ir-A  vohn    in  nl»i1/ll»^«J>« 1 

_-_  ,.  ,,,  viiii.iiivva  D  vJiiiij   J  Cars, 

Had  learned  the  wisdom  of  Chaldea'n  seers, 


28 


THE  PROMISES. 


td  t,  ^/ «  ^'."Sht  by  One,  whose  word  alone 
Had  hurled  Be  shazzar  from  his  lofty  throne ; 
Arrayed  in  sackcloth,  knelt  in  fervent  prayed, 
With  tearful  cheek  and  supplicating  ai?,  ^    ' 
Imploring  God  to  turn  a  smilinp;  face, 
.  And  show  compassion  to  a  captive  race  ; 
To  hear  their  ones,  to  view  their  burning  tears, 
And  to  forgive  the  sins  of  other  years :     • 
To  burst  the  chains  of  thraldom  that  they  wore 
And  bring  them  to  their  native  land  once  more 
To  have  regard  for  Zion's  holy  hill  ' 

And  to  protect  his  suffering  people  still. 
A  mighty  angel,  sent  at  God's  command, 
1^0 ,  .he  mourner  laid  a  gentle  hand ; 
r,,  Witu  tender  words  he  soothed  his  achina  heart 
And  kindly  bade  his  gloomy  fears  depan: 

I  ?.'J"  h"  ^'■"^'^  •'  ♦'™"'  ^"^'^  «'«™al  throne 
I  have  been  sent  to  make  the  vision  known 
The  time  is  set  and  the  appointed  year 
.  Will  bring  the  Pnnce,  the  great  Messiah  here 
Zion  shall  ha  1  with  joy  that  blissful  day 
^ut,  when  a  few  more  years  have  rolled  ^w..v  ' 

Th  Anointed  .hall  be  cut  off  from  the  land! 

The  blood  of  the  Messiah  shall  be  spil  ; 
Not  for  his  sins  shall  he  atonement  make. 
But  die  and  suffer  for  another's  sake." 

Thus  one  by  one.  Prophet  and  Bard  had  shown 

SfX'm"' •  f^''^^'  ^""''y  ''■"1  "rone         ™ 
Of  the  Messiah,  and  the  appointed  year 

When  the  expected  Saviour  would  appear- 

And  now  another,  blest  with  a  bright'^beam 

Of  future  years,  caught  up  the  infpiringTheme. 


THE   PROMISES. 


&nW  Vu-^fu'  ^"^SO,  the  smitten  One 
Ihen  told  the  birth-place  of  Jehovah's  Son 

The  honor  of  Messiah's  birth  may  claim  • 
God  destines  not  the  mighty  ones  of  ewlh 
To  bo  the  heralds  of  the  Saviour's  birth 

10  be  the  burden  of  the  PmnKnf «      ° 

RrjeaTeTl-'el^ltre^-fi 

Of  fir"'  "'  PoU-'iontstd^alr        ""'- 
Of  filthy  garments  changed  for  pure  arrav 

Se.p^icCeKnXta^^^'''^^ 
Daughter  of  Zion  '  lift  o  i;ft  *{:      *• 

For    0    H^'  ^'"^'"l  '""^  «-rth4likc  shall  rins 
or,  lo !  He  comes,  thy  meek  and  lowly  Kin™?' 

^0  longer  h.^dsit^higianl' Wallace. 


29 


m. 


lyjiiiiiiiiK 

ill 

Hi 


TUE   PJlaVJISES. 


He  sees  their  King  become  a  sacrifice  ; 
bees  Israel's  King  sold  for  a  paltry  price. 
ile  sees  a  nation  wrapped  in  fear  and  woe : 
He  sees  the  tears  of  bitter  anguish  flow  ; 
He  hears  the  wails  of  sorrow  and  despair, 
Hears  David's  house  lament  its  rovai  heir 
On  every  side  sees  families  apart, 
Weeping  and  mourning  as  with  breaking  heart : 

l^or,  lo  !  those  tearful  eyes  are  fixed  on  Him 
Whom  they  have  pierced !  and  for  that  stricken  One 
ihey  weep  a-^d  wail  as  for  a  first-born  son. 

Before  his  face  t^e  bleeding  Victim  stands  : 

He  views  the  wounds  within  his  tender  hands. 

And  asks,  m  eager  accents  of  surprise,  i 

;;  Whence  do  those  dark  and  ghastly  wounds  arise  ?"^ 

Ah,  they  are  those,"  the  pallid  Victim  cries,         f 

That  I  received  from  friends,  whose  lives  to  savej 

Mine  own  a  sacrifice  I  freely  gave." 

He  sees  the  raging  storm  its  venge'ance  shed. 

And  spend  its  fury  on  the  Saviour's  head : 

He  sees  the  sword  of  Justice  lifted  hi^h  • 

He  hears  one  wild,  one  agonizing  crjt 

Ihe  Shepherd  falls,  closes  his  dimming  eye<»  — 

One  bitter  pang,.-- the  smitten  Shepherd  dies. 

His  little  flock  take  up  the  piercing  wail  ; 

Their  ernes  of  anguish  rend  each  hill  and  dale; 

Iheir  Shepherd  lost,  scattered  and  sad  they  roam  • 

No  Shepherd's  gentle  voice  invites  them  home       ' 

He  sees  the  crimson  blood  in  one  dark  tide      ' 

Flow  freely  from  the  Sufferer's  mangled  side; 

Swifter  and  swifter  still  the  life-drops  pour, 

Until  a  fountam,  full  and  gushing  o'erf 

btands  all  prepared  before  the  Prophet's  eye. 

„      ^.  — ...^.  .,,..  „„„.^^^j^jj  uupwio  may  try; 


Nat 
i&rene 


TUK    PROMISES. 

id,  plunging  'neath  the  dark  and  rolling  flood, 
find  free  salvation  in  a  Saviour's  blood. 


SI 


PART    V. 

Idolatry  the  power  suprenJe  had  gained, 
Lnd  o'er  a  guilty  world  in  triumph  rei^rned; 
)arkness  and  superstition,  hand  in  hand, 
^alked  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  all  the  land. 
The  mighty  Crod  of  Israel  was  unknown 
lave  unto  Israel's  scattered  race  alone; 
Vnd  even  they  had  trampled  on  his  laws, 
fad  been  forgetful  of  his  glorious  cause, 
[ad  left  their  first  Beloved,  their  gracious  God 
[ncurred  his  wrath,  and  felt  the  fearful  rod       * 
It'  his  displeasure,  as,  with  heavy  stroke, 
le  yielded  them  unto  a  foreign  yoke, 
Lnd  suffered  them,  their  city  and  their  lands, 
0  fall  into  a  haughty  tyrant's  hands. 
the  trumpet  long  had  sounded  its  alarm, 
^nd  savage  War  made  bare  his  awful  arm, 
^  Waved  his  dread  standard  "  o'er  a  trembling  world 
Vhile  broken  throne  on  broken  throne  was  hurled  •    ' 
Lnd  kings  and  princes,  answering  to  the  call 
ushed  wildly  forth,  and  hastened  on  their  fall  • 
Intil  the  victors  of  the  land  and  sea  ' 

{rought  nations  down  upon  the  suppliant  knee, 
0  sue  for  pardon,  and  for  peace  entreat, 
^.nd  offer  homage  at  the  conqueror's  feet  j 
hen  quiet  Peace  resumed  her  reign  once  more, 
Vnd  War  proclaimed  his  bloody  mission  o'er. 

^  Nature  had  sunk  into  a  calm  repose  ; 
30rene  and  fair  the  twinkling  stars"  arose, 


92 


THE   PROMISES. 


And  gazed  upon  a  quiet  world  at  rest^  — 
A  wondrous  world,  by  Heaven  supremely  blest, 
^or  stars  alone  looked  down  upon  the  si.rbt, 
^or  angel  eyes  peered  through  the  depths  of  night 
And  angel  forms,  heralds  of  light  and  love 
Enraptured  left  their  shining  homes  above  '— 
For  earthly  regions  left  a  heavenly  shore,  ' 
l^or  earth  had  charms  earth  never  had  before. 

Each  sound  was  hushed  upon  Judca's  plains  : 
Jiy  Jordan's  flowing  stream  the  shepherd  swains     i 
Guarded  their  flocks;  and  midnight,  calm  and  stil 
n  atched  0  er  the  scene,  and  reigned  on  Zion's  hill 
felecp,  gentle  sleep,  came  forth  with  smiling  air. 
lo  shed  her  mild  and  genial  influence  there, 
And  weary  hearts  had  found  a  sweet  repose  — 
When,  suddenly,  a  glorious  star  arose. 
I  he  arch  of  heaven  presents  one  dazzling  blaze ! 
Ihe  shepherds  start  in  terror  and  amaze, 
With  pallid  faces  and  dilated  eyes, 

w^u^n '^^',  ^^^'^  ^^^^'  ^  "^'^^^y  angel  flies. 
With  (rod  s. own  glory  on  his  radiant  brow. 
And  lips  that  bring  a  joyful  message  now. 
While  love  and  mercy  fill  the  angel's  eyes  • 
;;  ^ear  not,  ye  trembling  ones !  »  the  angel  cries ; 

l; or  glorious  tidmgs  unto  you  I  bear ; 
J  his  day  is  born  to.  David's  throne  an  heir  • 
liCt  heavenly  joy  dispel  your  rising  fears.    ' 
In  David's  city,  Christ,  the  Lord,  appears." 

Down,  down  the  shining  pathway  of  the  sky 
ien  thousand  times  ten  thousand  angels  fly  • 
Jen  thousand  times  ten  thousand  voices  sin.^, 
While  far  around  the  azure  arches  ring, 
And  heaven  and  earth  reecho  the  glad  strains, 
J  "«v  oTTccLijf  iiuiii  over  eiuaeas  plains. 


G 
G 

G] 
)n  ( 

rhe 

'hej 

)f  T 

Lnd 

i.nd 

^ith 

lo  w 

hey 

^  sm 

fhe^ 

|\^ith 

iroui 

lind  ^ 

hen, 

he  kj 


ipremcly  blest. 

n  the  sight, 

le  depths  of  night 

;  and  love, 

ics  above,  — 

J  shore, 

r  had  before. 

udca's  plains ; 
lepherd  swains 
ht,  calm  and  still| 
ed  on  Zion's  hill. ' 
th  smiling  air, 
nco  there, 
3et  repose  — 
•ose. 

azzling  blaze ! 
iraazc, 
» 

ngel  flies, 
int  brow, 
ge  now. 
I's  eyes : 
le  angel  cries ; 
car; 
an  heir ; 
fears, 
ppears." 

^  of  the  sky 

igelsflyj 

'ices  sing, 

ring, 

ad  strains, 

ns. 


r 


THB   PROMISES. 

'  Glory  to  God !  "  the  thrilling  anthems  rise  • 
'  Glory  to  God  !  "  a  sin-curseS  world  rep7fes- 
^Glory  to  God,  who  reigns  in  heaven  abote  / 
)n  earth  to  men  good  will  and  perfect  love  !  " 

With  grateful  hearts  and  features  beaming  bririiL 
The  shepherds  gazed  upon  the  brilliant  siX-   ^^ 
fhey  listened  till  the  last  expiring  lay  ^    ' 
Vi  wondrous  melody  had  died  awtv  • 
And  when  at  length  the  startling  scene  was  o'er 
#nd  sUence  there  resumed  its  reign  once  more   ' 
f  ith  hasty  steps  they  left  their  lone  retreat 
;o  worship  at  their  infant  Saviour's  feet:      ' 
hey  ound  him  m  an  humble  manger  laid 
^^  smiling  babe  whose  arm  creation  stayed : 
he  virgin  mother,  kneeling  by  his  side, 
^ith  alU  mother's  love,  a  mother's  pride: 
.round  him  now  she  twined  her  tender  anis 
,^nd  gently  hushed  her  timid  babe's  alarr  ' 
hen  gazing  on  the  groups  that  gathered  there, 
[he  kissed  his  cheek,  "  and  breath! d  a  mother's  prayer." 

One  group  had  come  from  distant  lands  afar 
rected  thither  by  the  glorious  star,  ' 

hose  rising  had  announced  the  promised  birth 
't  the  Messiah  to  a  sinful  earth, 
nd  whose  bright  beams  in  dazzling  splendor  now      v 
Wed  around  the  sleeping  infants  brow 

.nd  nff!  T""  '^""^  ^^^''  P'^^^^'^^  gifts  to  bring, 
;nd  offer  homage  to  their  infant  King ;  ^ 

■he  shepherds,  too,  in  adoration  fall, 

ind  own  their  Lord,  the  inmate  of  a  stall .' 

^hey  bring  no  golden  gift,  no  costly  store, 

Jut  God  receives  the  offerings  of  the  poor ; 

„nd,  finea  with  joy.  and  elorifviW  ftii. 

aeir  Homeward  way  the  happy  shVherds  trod, 


38 


84 


THE  PR05IISBS. 


And  spread  the  tidings  on  the  wings  of  morn. 
In  David's  citj,  Christ,  the  Lord,  is  born." 

From  mouth  to  mouth  the  blissful  tidincH  flew 
And  those  who  waited  anxiously  to  view 
Israel's  redemption,  hailed  with  joyful  cries 
ine  day  that  saw  the  morning  star  arise  • 
And  filled  with  love,  with  rapture  and  delight, 
Gave  thanks  to  God,  and  blessed  him  for  the  sight 
While  they  rejoieed  with  angels  o'er  his  birth,  ^ 
ihe  sons  of  darkness  with  the  sons  of  earth 
Conspired  to  slay  the  meek  and  holy  One  : 
But  God  himself  watched  o'er  his  infant  Son,- 
*  ound  him  a  refuge  in  a  foreign  land, 
Vrot  ^°\^"^  «J\»ghter  reigned  on  every  hand,- 
Preserved  him  by  his  own  Almighty  arm. 
And  shielded  him  from  every  rude  alarm  : 

T W  *K^^'  T^^'"''  "^"^^^  ^^^^  bitter  fears. 
Upon  their  infants  poured  their  scalding  tears, 
And  clasped  them  to  their  breasts  in  wild  despair 

t' f  Tfif'i^^^  P^^^^  ^^"^^  ''^'^  them  there  - 

Th^TM^"  ^ri  "'''"^  "^^""'^^  strength,  to  prove 
The  depth  and  fervor  of  a  mother's  lo  °e  ^ 

Alas !  in  vain.     One  shriek  of  anguish  wild, 
Eaeh  mother  weeps  above  her  bleeding  child 
The  Virgin  Mary  knew  no  woe  like  this ; 
But  filled  with  love,  with  joy  and  thankfulness 
She  pressed  her  babe  unto  hi  yearning  heart  ' 
And  felt  her  sad  forebodings  all  depart ;         ' 
For,  safely  sheltered  from  a  tyrant's  rage 

in7.?fdf  f-!i  'r^'^'  -'g*^*  --ale; 
And  gladly  hailed  the  long-desired  hour 

When  vengeful  wrath  removed  a  tyrant's  power  • 
Then,  guarded  by  the  same  Almighty  hand  ' 
Returned  once  more  unto  her  naUve  land" 


TUB   PROMISES. 

[And  found  a  happy  home,  a  quiet  place 

iNew  inorccs  to  tho  inmates  of  that .   t    ^ 

Z\T  h'  "•"'"•  ■^""g'"  »"'  th^  lot' retreat 
nd  offered  homage  at  tho  Saviour.,  Zl  ' 

nRcb,  brjgljt  angels,  hovered  round  unle'en 
na  waved  the.r  wing,  above  tho  Wene 
II  heaven  resoundod  with  harmonious  lays 
f  rapturous  joy  and  of  eternal  praise     "^ 
^indmmgling  sweetly  with  eaoh'^Tad  acclaim 
.oudly  arose  the  youthful  Saviour's  name        ' 

Xr.t"'""''  ^'r^'^'  "''"'  haa  felt  befor 
JVithm  each  breast  unlocked  its  hidden  sire 

no  Objects  of  God's  special  love  and  eraea  • 

tnd  gazing  on  his  face,  so  pure  and  m^' 
riiey  owned  the  wisdom  of  the  wondrousohil^ 

el^d  uZ  h"l""?  \"Sels  Tve/ brfoS"- 
f!!Tj  .u    a"  *"' '""'y ''ome  once  more  ' 
or  did  tho  Son  of  God  refuse  to  share    ' 

Jut  LT?;  '"i'r  "°^  ••'«  parents'  eare  ; 

*ndret,?;iSrdT:thS\'"^''^"'^"^' •'-<•- 
^^"d  when  [hS  oi  td ;"::"' = 

^ttd  night  had  brought  a  sw^t  r/c^/af  L. 


86 


86 


THE  PBOMISES. 


Upon  her  son  a  tender  mother  smiled, 
And  in  her  arms  embraced  the  holy  child. 

Truly  that  mother's  yearning  heart  was  blest, 
As  thus  she  clasped  him  to  her  loving  breast. 
And  found  in  him,  that  fondly  worshipped  one. 
A  dutiful  and  a  devoted  son. 
And  yet,  methinks,  a  bitter  pang  of  woe, 
Such  as  a  mother's  heart  alone  can  know 
Shot  through  her  breast,  as,  with  a  tearfill  gaze, 
fehe  looked  away  to  future  scenes  and  days. 
And  saw  that  he,  her  bosom's  dearest  pride 
The  gentle  son  that  nestled  by  her  side,       ' 
Was  growing  up  beneath  a  mother's  eyes, 
A  tender  Lamb  for  cruel  sacrifice. 
Day  after  day  she  watched  his  lovely  face. 
As  if  ^e  hoped  his  inmost  thoughts  to  trace: 
I)ay  after  day  beheld  new  beautie     hine 
Upon  his  brow,  so  noble  and  divine  ; 
Bay  after  day  beheld  his  features  wear 
A  calmer  smile,  and  a  more  heavenly  air. 

A  voice  had  sounded  through  the  desert  land. 
Proclaiming,  "  Lo  !  God^s  kingdom  is  at  hand." 
"  J^epent,  repent !  "  the  mighty  herald  cried, 
"And  be  baptized  beneath  the  rolling  tide. 
Not  mine  the  power  the  sinner  to  forgive,  ~ 
Not  mine  the  power  to  bid  the  sinner  live ; 
But  after  me  shall  come  a  mighty  One 
The  great  Messiah,  God's  eternal  Son, ' 
In  whom  alone  my  helpless  soul  shall  boast; 
He  Will  baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost  " 
On  Jordan's  banks,  in  rustic  garb  arrayed, 
Ihe  Baptist  stood,  and  calmly  he  surveyed 
The  groups  that  gathered  round  on  either  hand, 


THE  PROMISES. 

Amid  the  crowd  a  noble  form  is  seen 
IV  .th  tranquil  brow  and  with  a  heavenly  mien ; 
His  graceful  locks  wave  lightly  round  his  head 
As  he  approaches  with  a  thoughtful  tread 
And  on  the  groups  that  quickly  pass  him  by 
He  casts  a  glance,  and  heaves  a  mournful  sLh. 
That  stranger  form  attracts  the  Baptist's  eyfs; 

'.^^  V.'iT  u"4^'\'^  ^^^Py^^^  J^aptist  cries  : 
"Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  !  destined  to  bear 
The  sins  of  all  the  world;  destined  to  share 
Ihe  pains  and  sorrows  of  a  groaning  earth. 
Which  owes  salvation  to  a  Saviour's  birth !  " 
ihen  with  a  meek  and  reverential  mien, 

^  Thou  Lamb  of  God !  0,  wherefore  come  to  me 
umce  I  have  need  to  be  baptized  of  thee  ?  »—    ' 

buffer  it  now,  for  such  my  Father's  will, 
Ihat  i  each  righteous  ordinance  fulfil  » 

Thf  «    T"/?  f  ^y^^"''  ^^'^  ^»d  ^o"ing  flood 
The  Baptist  led  the  holy  Lamb  of  God, 

Laid  him  beneath  the  gently-yieldine  wave 
And,  as  he  raisedjiim  from  the  wate^ry  gra;e 
A  voice  was  heard;  it  shook  the  tremblL  skies- 
"This  IS  my  Son !  "  the  great  Jehovah  crfes ;      ' 
While  rays  ofglory  gather  from  above,    . 
And  on  his  head  descends  the  mystic  Dove. 

Thus  Jesus  left  old  Jordan's  flowing  flood 
A  great  High  Priest,  anointed  by  his  God 
Washed  and  baptized  beneath  the  crystal  w'ave 

The  old  V^''.'^  ^  «""*^  ^«^^d  to  save.    ^'* 
itte  old  Mosaic  dispensation  flies; 

Behold  another  dispensation  rise  ! 

i^e  ancient  ordinances  and  the  law 

-s  quicii  sueceaaion  hastily  withdraw, 


87 


88 


THE   PROMISES. 


And  to  the  dispensation  yield  their  place 
Which  owns  no  law  except  the  law  of  Grace 
Regards  no  people  with  peculiar  care,  ' 

Bids  every  race  alike  its  favors  share  ; 

And  nTrr  I^^^*?°"««^««  I^as  no  reward, 

And  no  High  Priest,  save  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord 


PART    VI. 

Ye  who  are  oft  distressed  and  tossed  about 
%  many  a  fear  and  many  a  gloomy  doubt,  - 

And  oft  betrayed  and  tempted  into  sin  — 
U    turn  your  eyes  upon  the  Man  of  woes  : 
ne  knows  each  pang,  each  bitter  trial  knows 
Around  his  path  behold  temptations  rise" 
On  him  his  utmost  art  the  tempter  tries, 
But  tnes  m  vam ;  and  must  his  follower;  yield  ? 
^Ll     b  ^"«^'/°d  g^asp  thy  shining  shield  • 
Shake  off  your  fears  ;  for,  lo !  your^MasfPr  ^r^;] 
He  will  protect  you  from  the  tern^Lr^^^^^^^^^ 

aZ^'I  ^fT/^^  u^''''*'  °^^^"  *^e  Saviour  strayed 
And  fasted  long  beneath  the  gloomv  shade  .^' ' 

Poui^d  forth  his.soul  in  deep^andT^t^^^^^^^^ 

Until  the  desert  seemed  an  Eden  there         ^   ' 

And  he  who  knelt  upon  the  dark  green'sod 

With  shmmg  brow  bespoke  aloud  the  God 

Yet  soon  his  frail  and  human  form  beffLn 

Ihen  by  his  side  the  artful  tempter  stood :  I 

"If  thou  art  God,  why  shouldst  thou  want  for  food  ? 

ix  .uuu  arc  uou,    tue  artfui  tempter" said. 


\ 


THE   PKOMISES. 


3y 


3ir  place 

tw  of  Grace, 

care, 

bare  ; 

'ewa,rd, 

Christ,  the  Lord. 


ossed  about 
ay  doubt,  — 
•ime  within, 
3  sin, — 
of  woes  ; 
rial  knows. 
s  rise ; 
tries, 

lowers  yield  ? 
ling  shield ! 
"Master  smiles ; 
er's  wiles. 

Saviour  strayed, 
''  shade ; 
irvent  prayer, 
ere, 
3en  sod 
e  God. 
3egan 
man. 
itood : 
want  for  food  ?| 
i''ield  thee  bread,  I 
said. 


But  he  rephed,  m  calm  and  steadfast  tone : 

Man  shal  not  live  by  bread,  and  bread  alone 
But  by  each  word  of  the  Eternal  One  :  ' 

And  by  that  word  lives  his  Eternal  Son." 
ihcn  from  the  mountain's  brow  one  dazzling  blaze 

"Behold  these  kingdoms !  all  the  power  is  mine  • 
Fall  down  and  worship  me-they  shall  be  thine  "_ 
"Get  thee  oehind  me,  Satan!  "    At  the  word 
A  thousand  dark  and  direful  passions  stirred 
And  with  a  curse,  mingled  with  foul  despafr  ' 

Se'n  r-^U  '"T^  ""**  '-^ft  "^«  VictorTher; 
Then  bright-eyed  messengers  of  peace  and  love 
Descended  from  their  hapV  hom^es  abo^e, 
And  angel  wings  fanned  softly  round  the  brow 
Which  felt  the  pangs  of  human  nature  now 

His  ministry  began,  from  place  to  place, 
Ihe  feaviour  passed  and  warned  a  simple  race  • 

^ReX  ?'  f^,  *l^'^°."«'"'"'  J-'dea'slnd       ' 
Repent,  for,  lo  !  God's  kingdom  is  at  haid,-  " 
While  rieh  and  poor,  and  old  and  youthful,  c^me 
Listened  in  awe,  and  spread  abroad  his  fame       ' 
And  some  thert  were,  long  racked  with  pain  and  woe 
Adown  whose  cheeks  the  tears  were  wont  to  flow 
Whose  palsied  limbs  had  long  refused  to  bear 
The  trcmb hng  form,  who  stood  rejoicing  there. 
The  souls  that  long  had  struggled  for  repose. 
And  sighed  for  freedom  fromth^r  heavy  wies 
By  evil  spirits  for  long  years  possessed,  ^         ' 
At  Jesus'  feet  now  found  a  quiet  rest  : 
And  where  they  hated  and  reviled  before, 

ThjJllfu  '^', ''"""'  """^  ""^'''P'  *''«/  adore. 
Io!,r^  f  I'^P""'-  ^'"''  ^~'»<'d  to  roam, 
iioathed  by  the  world,  witbnnt  „  f„:„„j  J, 


40 


THE   PROMISES. 


I 


H<.  heard  the  Saviour's  sweet  and  tender  voice  ^ 
It  bade  his  long  despairing  soul  rejoice  ; 
And  healed  and  cleansed,  his  homeward  way  he  trodl 
With  praise  and  honor  to  the  Son  of  God  '' 

The  lame  man  bounded  to  his  feet  once  more 
And  loudly  sang  his  griefs  and  sorrows  o'er; 
The  blind  man,  filled  with  rapture  and  delirjht 
^azed  on  the  scenes  that  met  his  dazzled  si|hfc; 
But,  loveliest  of  them  all,  his  eyes  now  trafe 
The  features  of  his  dear  Redeemer's  face. 
And  with  a  look  of  gratitude  and  love. 
With  shouts  he  rends  the  azure  dome  above; 

ThafJrH '"^  dumb  take  up  the  glad  acclaim 
Ihat  sweetly  rises  to  Immanuel's  name. 

Upon  the  mountain's  brow,  by  the  sea-shore, 
Ihe  baviour  taught  as  man  ne'er  taught  before; 
He  spoke  m  parables  —  as  long  foretold  — 
i.»  parables,  arid  sayings  dark  of  old  ; 
\\  aile  crowds  that  gathered  round  admiring  hung 
Upon  the  words  that  fell  from  Jesus'  tonguf       ^ 
Arid  now  and  then,  amid  the  eager  throng, 
The  victims  of  affliction  pressed  alone ; 
Touched  but  the  hem  of  Jesus'  robe,tnd  felt 
l^eir  health  restored,  while  at  his  feet  they  knelt 
And  sinners,  too,  with  penitential  air,         ^ 
Raised  unto  him  their  sad  and  fervent  prayer 
Where'er  he  goes  sighs  and  entreaties  blend 
Where  er  he  goes  he  proves  the  sinner's  friend  • 
His  gentle  voice  the  weary  soul  bei^uiles ;         ' 

^rLT  ^''  '•.^'  ^'  '  *^'  ^''^'^'''  orphan  smile.: 
The  lonely  widow  one  sweet  accent  hears. 

Raises  her  head,  and  wipes  away  her  tears. 

The  lowliest  sons  of  earth  he  set^  apart 
io  be  his  chosen  friends ;  his  tender  heart 


THE   PROMISES. 


41 


Bleeds  for  the  poor,  the  Sad,  and  the  distressed  : 
And  little  children  lean  upon  his  breast. 
And,  although  timid,  feel  no  rude  alarms 
While  nestled  in  the  loving  Saviour's  arms. 

From  Nain's  gates,  with  slow  and  measured  tread. 

aehold  a  long,  a  sad,  procession  led ; 

While  falling  tears  in  quick  succession  start, 

And  heavy  sighs  break  fror-^  the  troubled  heart. 

Why  heaves  the  sigh  ?  v,  _j  tails  the  burning  tear  ? 

liehold,  there  lies  upon  the  sable  bier, 

Where  death,  and  youth  and  beauty,  strangely  blend, 

The  darling  hope  of  many  a  loving  friend. 

And  view  that  pale,  that  widowed  mother  there. 

With  tearful  cheek  and  look  of  wild  despair. 

Well  may  she  weep ;  her  earthly  joy  has  fled ; 

Her  only  son  sleeps  with  the  silent  dead. 

But  just  ahead,  behold,  another  throog 

Toward  Nain's  gates  now  slowly  moves  along; 

And  who  is  he,  upon  whose  beaming  brow 

Pity  and  love  are  sweetly  blending  now  ? 

Who  can  he  be,  whose  tearful  eye?  disclose 

A  tender  heart  that  melts  at  others'  woes  ? 

"Weep  not,"  he  cries ;  and  while  amazed  they  stand. 

Upon  the  bier  he  lays  his  mighty  hand ; 

He  lifts  the  pale  and  the  enshrouded  clay  • 

From  the  dark  prison  where  enclosed  it  lay. 

While  life  again,  with  quick  and  healthy  start, 

^ncircles  round  that  cold  and  pulseless  heart. 

Ihen  with  a  smile,  where  blend  a  thousand  charms. 

He  yields  the  son  unto  his  mother's  arms. 

ihat  mother's  tongue  can  breathe  no  thankful  word. 

But  sobs,  loud  sobs,  of  thrilling  joy  are  heard, 

And,  turning  from  a  living  son's  embrace. 

Her  tearful  eves  rest  on  h'^p  Savi*n»».'«  p„^« 


42 


THE   PROMISES. 


While  gratitude  the  mother's  bosom  swells, 
And  gratitude  each  beaming  feature  tells. 
Each  tear  is  wiped  away,  each  mourning  soul 
Is  quickly  loosed  from  sorrow's  dark  control, 
And  every  voice,  in  tones  that  rend  the  skies. 
Ihe  mighty  God  of  Jacob  glorifies. 

A  mother  knelt  in  grief  and  anguish  Wild 
i>eside  the  death-bed  of  an  only  child. 
While  o'er  her  cheeks  the  tears  in  torrents  fell, 
And  painful  sighs  her  aching  heart  would  swell : 
fehe  pressed  her  lips  upon  the  lovely  brow, 
So  cold,  so  pallid  and  so  death-like  nov^ ;  ' 
Withm     ,r  own  the  trembling  hand  she  pressed  : 
Once  more  she  clasped  her  to  her  heaving  breast. 
Ihe  dymg  maiden  with  an  effort  smiled. 
The  mother's  arms  embraced  a  lifeless  child. 
Ihe  wretched  father  seeks  the  lonely  place, 
The  tears  of  grief  are  rolling  down  his  face  : 
How  dreary  all,  how  dark  and  cheerless  ffrown ! 
He  enters,  but  he  enters  not  alone  ; 
A  stranger  comes,  and  while  each  mourner  weeps,! 

A   !^1  """*,'    ^^  '''''^''  "  *^^  "maiden  only  sleeps.''    ' 
And  though  the  unbelieving  throng  deride, 
Ihe  parents  cling  unto  the  Saviour's  side  • 
And  while  a  ray  of  hope  illumeseach  soul, 
iiefore  left  victims  to  despair's  control, 

w-!{  l^^^  '^^  r^^  *^  ^^^^^  ^^^'^  daughter  lies. 
With  heaving  bosoms  and  with  kindliSg  evt)s. 
Ihe  smiling  Saviour  took  within  his  own 
4    u  J    ^-^  liand,  and  in  a  gentle  tone 
He  bade  the  maiden  rise ;  the  maiden  heard. 
And  rose  obedient  at  the  Saviour's  word 
There  burst  one  cry  of  thrilling  rapture  wild, 
Ihe  parents  wept  for  joy  above  their  child. 


THE   PROMISES.  ^o 

Where'er  he  moved  a  ornwrl  hio  ^  ™®- 

/hilo  in  their  ^idstVo^lt'STe^trfht'' 
Ind  when  the;  fainted  for  the  want  of  bread'    '        ' 
r'"  •"«  W"  Ijand  the  multitude  he  fed 

And  oft  at  eve,  when  nature  sunk  to  rest 

a  """;.*  ^T"'' disturbed  the  peacefd  breast 

tZu^"  ^"^'  '"  1"i«'»<J°  deposed  ' ~ 

nd  other  eyes  in  balmy  sleep  were  c  osed 

id  r'"'  '.  T'''^  "'^  Saviour  knelt  in  lyTr 

^e  kingdom  unto  Wl'!      ^'       °  '^""''^  ""^^'o^ 
n,l  „i.^    i         ,  '■^'^^'^  ^  '■"ce  once  more  • 
nd  when  he  spoke  of  sorrows  and  of  woes 
f  crue  sufferings,  and  of  deadly  foes 
If  death  with  all  its  tortures  andTs  lorn 
P  "S'ng  once  more  from  the  drearv  tomh 
Jey  turned  on  him  their  half'eZ 'h">.„„„ 
i-u  wuu  amazement  and  with  'deep'^urprrs;:' 


44 


THE  PROMISES. 


And  oft  in  secret  pondered  o'er  each  word, 
And  wondered  still  at  what  they  saw  and  heard. 

Upon  a  mountain's  brow,  with  humble  air, 
A  little  group  knelt  down  in  fervent  prayer, 
Their  Master  -n  their  midst,  with  beaming  eVes 
fastened  upon  the  calm  and  azure  skies 
J«ut  suddenly  those  azure  skies  assume 
Another  hue ;  for  dazzling  beams  illume 
Ihe  arch  of  heaven,  and  rays  of  glory  bright 
^ncircle  him  in  floods  of  living  light 
Two  radiant  beings,  with  celestial  air 
And  glorious  forms,  stood  by  the  Saviour  there; 
Both  sons  of  earth,  for  they  were  wont  to  stray 
fcad  and  alone,  upon  the  world's  high  way  : 
But  they  had  joined  the  angel  choirs  ahove, 
And  sung  the  chorus  of  redeeming  love. 

And  both  had  drained  the  bitter  drops  tf.t  flow 
From  sorrow's  cup ;  and  one  had  sadly  tried  | 

^ature  s  last  pang,  and  crossed  death's  gloomy  tide 
A  cloud  of  glory  tiftged  with  heaven's  olSt      ' 
Too  pure  and  brilliant  for  the  human  sighV 

InHif  inTnT^f ''  ^''''  '''  ^''^^'  ^'^^'  spread, 
7  J  bung  m  splendor  over  every  head : 

ill   '/^'  5-'^^  ^^''^^''  ^"^J^^  ^ith  fear, 
A  ^olce  astounding  bursts  upon  the  ear  : 

This  IS  my  Son,"  that  voice  like  thunder  cries  - 

Along  the  mountain's  top  the  echo  flies  I  '      ' 

This  IS  my  Son,  in  whom  I  take  delight."  i 

WheTTn     '^  ¥^rd  -bewildered  with  affright,- 
When  lo !  a  voice  their  sad  misgivings  stayed         ^ 

They  raised  their  eyes,  the  dreadful  sight  was  o'er 
All  things  a  calm  and  quiet  aspect  wo?e 


eh  word, 

saw  and  heard. 

lunible  air, 
nt  prayer, 
beaming  eyes 
skies, 
urae 
Hume 
ory  bright 
It. 
air 

aviour  there ; 
7ont  to  stray, 
^h  way  ; 
ra  aSove, 
lova. 

'thiy  woe, 
3ps  tl  't  flow 
idly  tried 
th's  gloomy  tide.  I 
I's  own  light, 
n  sight, 
;ht  folds  spread, 
Jad; 

with  fear, 
ear  : 

I  under  cries,  —  i 
ies, — 


THE  PROMI3B8. 

A  lonely  bark  was  on  the  raging  sea, 
be  tempest  roared  in  fury  wild  a'.x   free, 
le  white  waves  dashed  against  tl-e  bounding  bark 
ireatening  destruction  'neath  the  waters  dafk  • 
3uder  and  louder  still  the  tempest  blew 
hercer  and  fiercer  still  the  billows  grew' 
ligher  they  rose  with  loud  tumultuous  swell 
ien  from  their  fearful  heights  in  fury  fell 
Ind  beat  in  many  a  wild  and  deafening  roar  ' 
[gainst  the  rocky  and  resounding  shore 
eep  terror  then  filled  every  trembling  soul, 
Ind  0  er  each  heart  fear  held  completl  control : 
Ihey  saw  their  bark  tossed  on  the  raging  wave, 
Ihat  bore  them  onward  to  a  watery  |rafe  • 
bey  heard  the  tempest  shriek ;   the  howling  suree 
eemed  unto  them  to  chant  their  funeral  Ze^ 
nd  Death  with  all  his  horrors  and  alarms  ^  ' 
teemed  to  mvite  them  to  his  icy  arms 
shriek  arose,  of  terror  and  amaze : ' 
Jpon  the  sea  with  rolling  eyes  they  gaze , 
ror,  heedless  of  the  tempest  or  the  storm 
Ipon  the  waves  there  walks  an  upright  form 
)eep  horror  then  filled  every  beatin|  heart,  ' 
Np  horror  then  froze  every  vital  part : 
Ahen  suddenly  above  the  awful  roar 
Ihey  heard  a  voice  they  oft  had  heard  before  : 
Fut  those  sweet  tones  had  never  seemed  so  dear 
M  in  that  hour  of  darkness  and  of  fear 
i^TnP     soft  accents  came  to  souls  dismayed, 
JBe  of  good  cheer  ;  't  is  I,  be  not  afraid !  " 
rhe  storm  might  strive  to  drown  that  soothing  word 
fut  strive  in  vam,  for  the  disciples  heard;    "^  ' 

f  nd  every  fear  was  quickly  lulled  to  rest, 

he^oTtonV7,  ^"1  ''''^  lightened  breast. 
[ae  sea,  too,  heard  :  and.  nt  fhoi,.  m„«*«-.-  —m, 

N  raging  elements  were  hushed  ardltili;  ''"'' 


45 


lit!l 


46 


THE   PROMISES. 


And  oft,  perchance,  on  the  rude  sea  of  life. 
Amid  Its  woes,  its  sorrows  and  its  strife,  — 
When  anguish  rolled  in  billows  wild  and  dark, 
When  tempests  gathered  o'er  their  fragile  bark. 
When  scorn  and  hate  met  them  at  every  tread, 
When  Persecution  raised  its  standard  dread, 
And  told  the  horrors  of  the  coming  storm,  i 

When  death  approached  in  its  most  dreadful  form  J 
Perchance  they  heard  the  heavenly  voice  once  more, 
Which  rose  above  the  howling  tempest's  roar :  ' 

Perchance  they  heard  the  tones  so  strong  to  save, 
That  floated  over  Galilee's  dark  wave, 

«^«  nP^^Tu^^^*^  ^"'"  "^^^^  *heir  spirits  stayed: 
-Be  of  good  cheer ;  't  is  I,  be  not  afraid."        ^ 

Pr!!!l^-"  ^^'.f  ^  *r^"*''  ^^*^  ^  *)^^^"t'«  power. 
Proclaimed  their  doom  and  named  their  final  hour  • 
When  in  a  dungeon  dark  and  gloomy,  bound,  '   I 

Perchance  they  heard  that  dear,  that  cheering  sound! 
When  doomed  to  wander  in  some  dreary  isle,^  ' 

Far  from  their  native  land,  in  lone  exile. 
And  even  when  for  slaughter  all  arrayed : 
Be  of  good  cheer ;  't  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 


PART    VII. 

An^'.^'^^''  Wisdom!  leave  thy  proud  retreat, 
And  come  and  worship  at  the  Saviour's  feet ; 
And  thou  Philosophy  !  with  aspect  stern. 
Come,  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  learn  ; 
Cast  all  thy  vam  and  idle  dreams  aside, 
tome  humble  and  divested  of  thy  pride 
And,_  sitting  at  his  feet  with  child-like  mien, 
Keceive  instruction  frnm  ih^  \ro„„ ' 


apare 

irklini 

ill  see 

Ith  rus 

m  the 

Ith  gra 

ito  eac 

liie  he 


THE  PROMISES. 

,  *o  the  mountain's  top  with  humble  air, 
Ith  his  disciples  learn  of  Jesus  there  • 
Wn  who  are  blest,  and  what  the  great  reward 
Btined  for  them  by  their  eternal  Lord. 

re  mighty  ones  of  earth !  upon  whose  brow 
crown  of  earthly  splendor  glitters  now, 
3und  whose  throne  a  nation  bends  in  awe. 
1  yields  submission  to  a  sovereign's  law  • 
bid  yon  poor  and  sorrowing  son  of  earth,  ~ 
knows  no  honors,  claims  no  royal  birth  ~ 
Ipoverty  and  sorrow  doomed  to  roam       ' 
iint  his  companion,  and  a  hut  his  home 
^tattered  robe  of  poverty  he  wears, 
brow  is  furrowed  with  untimely  cares 
Itred  and  scorn  he  meets  on  every  side 
bm  scoffing  foes;  nor  foes  alone  deride  • 
r  those  he  loved  and  prized  in  days  of  yore 
whom  he  told  his  griefs  and  sorrows  o'er     ' 
Iw  turn  away,  or  mark  without  a  sigh       ' 
■^  pallid  features  and  his  tearful  eye. 

p  mighty  ones !  with  air  of  lofty  pride 
bm  that  meek  sufferer  coldly  turn  aside  •' 
ose  tattered  garments  and  that  simple  air 
pulsive  seem  •  —  then  gaze  no  longer  there  : 
It  know  that  he,  on  whom  ye  darkly  frown, 
bll  one  day  wear  a  bright,  a  glorious  crown, 
mpared  with  which  your  royal  diadems, 
arklmg  with  jewels  and  with  precious  gems, 
III  seem  a  frightful  mass,  all  cankered  o'er 
1th  rust,  and  deeply  stained  with  human  gore 
m  the  poor  wanderer,  whom  ye  now  despise, 
h  grateful  heart  shall  win  the  conqueror's  prize  • 
fto  each  care  shall  bid  a  long  adJnn    ^  ^       ' 

wie  neaven  and  glory  burst  upon  his  view ; 


47 


48 


TUB  PROMISES. 


Arrayed  in  shining  robes  that  pilgrim  lone 
Shall  take  the  sceptre,  mount  the  dazzling  throne 
Prepared  for  him  unnumbered  years  before ; 
Shall  wear  the  crown  for  him  laid  up  in  store, 
And  with  his  elder  Brother  freely  share 
The  eternal  kingdom  of  which  he  is  heir. 

Ye  thoughtless  ones  !  who  sport  in  folly's  arms ; 

Whom  pleasure  woos  with  all  her  glittering  charms  ; 

For  whom  the  gorgeous  banquet  stands  prepared; 

By  whom  the  sweets  of  luxury  are  shared ; 

Who  spend  your  moments  in  the  crowded  hall, 

Where  mirth  and  revelry  their  votaries  call ; 

Who  join  the  giddy  dance  with  thoughtless  air, 

And  find  your  all  of  joy  and  rapture  there  ; 

'  JJ^^  yonder  lowly  home ;  a  mourner  weeps  ; 
With  tears  and  sighs  her  lonely  vigils  keeps. 

She  bends  the  knee,  raises  the  tearful  eye 

A  prayer  ascends  before  the  throne  on  high. 
Ah,  laughing  ones  !  enjoy  your  mirth  to-day; 
Enjoy  your  sweets  and  pleasures  while  you  may, 
For  ye  shall  weep  and  wail  in  dark  despair, 
While  she  who  lifts  the  penitential  prayer, 
Though  doomed  a  while  to  pain,  to  want  and  woe, 
bhall  wipe  away  the  burning  tears  that  flow. 
And  hail  with  joy  the  day  that  brings  release, 
Ihat  ushers  in  the  reign  of  love  and  peace ; 
When  they  who  weep  will  shout  their  trials  o'er. 
And  never  know  the  pangs  of  sorrow  more. 

Mercy,  that  angel  bright,  with  loving  eye, 
And  pmions  all  outspread,  will  hover  nigh, 
And  ever  smile  with  love's  own  radiant  glow 
Upon  the  heart  that  sighs  at  others'  woe, 
That  weeps  when  others  weep,  and  fr^elv  shares 
Another's  burdens  and  another's  cares;"' 


THE   PnOMlSE3. 

That  finds  a  shelter  for  earth's  homeless  sons, 
And  food  and  raiment  for  her  outcast  ones  • 
That  heart  is  blest,  nor  showers  its  love  in  Vain: 
Ihey  who  show  mercy,  mercy  shall  obtain. 

Ye  who  have  fled  for  refuge  to  your  God, 
Come  boldly  forth  and  sound  his  praise  abroad  : 
J^eek  not  to  hide  the  light  so  freely  given 
To  gild  the  path  which  leads  to-God  and  heaven. 
JJut  take  your  stand  with  calm  and  fearless  air  : 
rhe  world's  rude  scorn,  its  bitter  tauntings,  dare  : 
And  let  your  light  with  steady  splendor  shine. 
K»d  by  a  hand  almighty  and  divine ; 
That  others  seeing  your  good  works  may  bow 
U  ith  contrite  heart  and  with  an  humble  brow : 
A  sacrifice  well  pleasing  there  may  bring 
And  oflfor  homage  to  your  God  and  King.' 

If  ye  indeed  have  known  your  sins  forrriven 
And  seen  your  guilty  names  enrolled  in  ht'aven, 
Let  earthly  passions  never  gain  control 
Within  your  hearts,  to  mar  the  happy  soul 
Where  peace  should  dwell,  and  streams  of  love  sli. 

flow,  — 
Love  for  your  God,  and  love  for  friend  and  foe 
It  ye  love  those,  the  fond  and  faithful  few, 
VV  ho  in  return  can  give  a  love  as  true, 
O,  what  reward  have  ye  ?     The  sons  of  earth, 
VVho  seek  the  haunts  of  pleasure  and  ot  mirth 
Who  spurn  with  scorn  the  teachings  from  above,     " 
Ihey  have  the  cherished  objects  of  theij  love 
VV  hose  griefs  and  sorrows  they  would  gladly  share, 
And  for  them  e'en  the  pangs  of  death  would  dare. 
Uien  what  reward  have  vn.  if  A-l^nrla  «««  ^i..:— 
lour  love  alone?  — for  sinners  do  the  same. 
6 


49 


50 


THE  PROMISES. 


But  if  ye  bless,  when  enemies  revile; 
If,  when  they  frown,  ye  grant  a  gentle  smile ; 
It,  when  they  smite,  ye  their  reproaches  bear ; 
It,  when  they  curse,  ye  raise  for  them  a  prayer ; 
It,  when  they  blast  your  character  and  name, 
Xe  gently  strive  to  spare  their  injured  fame ; 
It  ye,  for  evil,  return  deeds  of  love, 
O,  blest  are  ye  !  — for  He  who  rules  above,  — 
Who  bids  for  all  the  sun  in  heaven  to  smile. 
And  sends  his  rain  upon  the  just  and  vile,  — 
With  tender  air  bends  from  his  lofty  throne, 
lioves,  and  protects,  and  claims  you  for  his  own. 

And  when  the  poor  stretch  forth  a  needy  hand, 
Kef  use  not  what  the  laws  of  God  demand ; 
Kemember  ye  the  promise  and  reward,  — 
giving  the  poor,  ye  lend  unto  the  Lord; 
He  Will  repay  —  to  Him  your  alms  are  known  — 
le  shall  receive  with  usury  your  own. 
And  when  ye  pray,  seek  some  secluded  place, 
Where  ye  can  view  your  heavenly  Father's  face, 
±  ar  from  the  haunts  of  men,  then  kneel  in  prayer. 
Pour  forth  your  wants  and  all  your  sorrows  there, 
^ut  come  m  faith,  with  humble  heart  believe 
Ihat  what  ye  ask  ye  shall  indeed  receive. 
If  to  your  side  a  trusting  child  draws  near. 
lo  your  paternal  bosom  fair  and  dear, 
And  unio  you,  in  soft  and  winning  tone. 
With  child-like  air,  his  simple  wants  makes  known,  - 
Will  y 3  refuse  to  grant  his  small  request  ? 
a1  rather  clasp  him  to  a  parent's  breast, 
And  smile  for  j^oy  to  view  the  transport  wild, 
The  wished-for  boon  bestow  upon  your  child, 
{^.ye  then  give  good  gifts  unto  your  sons. 

Will    tir\A    M^A.^^   j._   1 1-1  *^  .  ' 

■  '  — «  ..iv-ji  iviuac  iw  uoar  nis  fluuioie  ones  ? 


THE  PROMISES. 

If  ye  as  parents  your  own  children  bless. 
WjU  not  your  Father  all  your  wants  redress  7 
Your  every  cry  does  not  your  Father  hear  ? 
O,  ye  of  little  faith,  why  should  ye  fear  ? 
Ye  know  not  where  to  find  your  daily  bread, 
But  shall  the  future  fill  your  souls  with  dread  ? 
Behold  the  fowls,  that  cleave  the  balmy  air, 
They  have  no  anxious  thought,  they  have  no  care; 
For  their  own  wants  they  never  can  provide. 
And  yet,  behold,  their  wants  are  all  supplied, 
fehall  ye  then  sufi"er  ?  — are  ye  less  than  thev  ? 
Ust  every  fear  and  every  doubt  away, 
And  bow  before  your  heavenly  Father's  throne  ; 

Behold  the  flowers,  arrayed  in  gorgeous  hues, 
All  gayly  sparkling  in  the  morning  dews ! 
iiehold  what  care  some  tender  hand  bestows 
i;Po»  *^e  hly  and  the  blushing  ro^e ! 
What  king  in  all  his  glory  can  compare 
With  the  rich  robes  those  lovely  flow'rets  wear  ? 
Then  shall  ye  want,  if  God  so  clothe  the  grass 
That  bends  beneath  the  breezes  as  they  pass  ? 
U,  ye  by  fears  of  future  need  dismayed  ' 
Are  ye  not  better  than  the  flowers  that  fade  ? 
Then  why  with  doubts  for  future  days  take  heed?- 
Your  lather  knows  whate'er  his  children  need 
But  seek  ye  first,  with  true  and  humble  heart, 
VVi  hm  God's  kingdom  to  obtain  a  part  ; 
beek  ye  the  ways  of  holiness  and  love. 
And  set  your  fondest  hopes  on  things  above  : 
Around  the  throne  let  your  afiections  twine, 
;^laced  on  an  object  worthy  and  divine ; 
^etore  the  throne  all  of  your  treasures  brinff — 
He^U  guard  them  well,  your  gracious  God  and  King ; 

nuiiu  ahall 


&l 


iljr 


freely  flow 


AH  of  the  blessings  that  ye  need  below 


52 


TUB   PROMISES. 


^  Ye  who  before  the  world  with  fearless  mien 
Confess  your  faith  in  the  poor  Nazarene  ; 
Ye  who  have  borne  the  cross  and  borne  the  shame, 
Nor  blushed  to  own  a  dying  Saviour's  name ; 
When  every  race,  of  every  tongue  and  land, 
Before  the  judgment-seat  shall  take  their  stand ; 
When  conquerors  cast  their  blood-stained  swords  aside, 
And  leave  behind  their  laurels  and  their  pride ; 
When  monarchs  shall  obey  the  dretdful  call. 
And  stand  arraigned  before  the  Lord  of  all  ; 
When  on  the  great  white  throne,  with  brow  severe, 
The  Judge  in  power  and  glory  shall  appear; 
In  that  dread  hour  that  tells  earth's  final  fate. 
When  shrieks  for  mercy  rise,  but  rise  too  late, 
Ye  shall  behold  with  joy  the  shining  place 
Where  your  Redeemer  shows  his  smiling  face ; 
He  shall  come  forth,  and,  still  in  love  the  same. 
Before  the  Father's  throne  confess  your  name  • ' 
While  heaven,  and  earth,  and  men,  and  angels'  hear 
And  God,  the  Father,  bends  a  listening  ear.  ' 

Ye  who  for  your  divine  Redeemer's  sake 
The  strongest  ties  of  nature  freely  break  ; 
Ye  who  can  view  with  calm  and  tearless  eye 
Your  brightest  hopes  like  fleeting  shadows  fly ; 
Ye  who  have  freely  left  each  costly  store 
Ye  cherished  once,  but  cherish  now  no  more ; 
Ye  who  have  borne  the  world's  rude  scorn  and  hate 
And  bowed  submissive  to  your  lonely  fate ;  * 

Ye  who  have  felt  a  pang  riore  cruel  still,  ' 
Friendship  forgotten,  love  grown  faint  and  chill ; 
Ye  who,  while  scalding  tears  in  torrents  fell. 
To  friends  estranged  have  bid  the  last  farewell. 
And  gladly  suffered  all  things  for  your  Lord,  -1 
HiccTviai,  ci/€  Wiii  06  your  grout  reward. 


THE  riioMisjis.  53 

Then  shall  ye  mourn?  lift  up  your  weeping  eyes ! 
Let  faith  already  grasp  the  blessed  prize, 
Which  far  outweighs  all  ye  are  doomed  to  bear 
In  this  dark  world  of  sorrow  and  of  care. 

Ye  who  have  wandered  far  from  virtue's  path, 
Justly  incurred  God's  vengeance  and  his  wrath; 
Ye  who  have  roa^^ed  without  a  friend  to  share 
I  he  heavy  load  of  sorrow  and  despair ; 
\vu^  l^^^ve  wept  o'er  scenes  too  bright  to  last, 

A  ^^"  1,'^^'^"^  ""^^^3^  wo'^ld  recall  the  past. 
And  sadly  whisper  to  your  bursting  heart. 

And  brand  the  words  upon  your  burning  brow, 

Those  days  were  pure  ;  alas !  how  alter-1  now  :  " 
Ye  who  have  mourned  through  many  a  dreary  night, 
Wh  le  Conscience  once  more  sternly  claimed  her  right, 
And  to  your  soul  the  horrid  phantoms  brou^rht 
Ut  sinful  deeds  until  then  half  forgr      . 
And  while  her  thunder  tones  burst  :  .  the  ear, 
I  hat  fain  would  not,  and  yet  must  surely  hear  — 
Hope  fled  your  breast,  and  from  your  pillow  sleep. 
And  left  you  but  to  bow  your  head  and  weep  : 
Ye  who  have  felt  all  this,  by  anguish  driven, 
Kenounccd  all  hopes  on  eart/i,  all  hopes  of  heaven  ;     - 
Who  long  have  met,  where'er  your  footsteps  trod. 

A  frowning  world  and  an  ofiended  God; 

Go  ye  unto  the  gentle  Nazarene; 

Go  ye  and  learn  what  those  sweet  words  may  mean  : 
i  will  have  mercy ;  I  will  freely  spare 

The  wretched  soul  that  lifts  the  contrite  prayer     • 

I  came  to  call  the  outcast  and  the  vile; 

I  came  to  bid  the  mourning  sinner  smile ; 

1  came  to  seek,  I  came  to  save  the  InsL 

O,  ye  by  bitter  griefs  and  sorrow  tossed,  — 


54 


THE   PROMISES. 


Ye  heavy  laden,  with  your  guilty  woes  !         '    * 
Come  unto  me,  and  find  a  sweet  repose. 
Take  ye  my  easy  yoke,  my  burden  bear ; 
With  me  a  crown  of  glory  ye  shall  wear. 
O,  ye  who  thirst !  unto  the  fountain  fly,  * 
Receive  my  words,  and  ye  shall  never  die  ; 
Flee  from  the  world  and  all  its  rude  r -arms, 
And  seek  for  refuge  in  my  outstretched  arms. 
O,  wretched  sinner !  lean  upon  my  breast, 
And  ye  shall  find  an  everlasting  rest." 

Such  were  the  doctrines  of  the  Nazarene*; 
How  changed  from  what  the  world  had  heard  or  seen ! 
How  changed  from  Sinai's  laws,  the  laws  of  grace ! 
Those  shook  the  mountain  to  its  lowest  base ; 
These  pierce  the  sinner's  heart ;  with  tears  and  sighs, 

He  lifts  to  heaven  his  sad,  imploring  eyes 

"  For  Jesus'  sake,  Almighty  God,  forgive  !  "  • 
The  prayer  is  heard ;  live,  ransomed  sinner,  live  ! 


PART   VIII. 

•   How  fierce  the  passions  of  the  human  soul, 
When  once  they  burst  the  limits  of  control ! 
Alike  the  stream  or  like  the  bubbling  rills, 
That  take  their  rise  among  the  snow-capped  hills, 
At  first  how  gentle  and  how  calm  their  flow! 
But  as  they  near  the  frowning  depths  below, 
A  raging  torrent  in  its  fury  pours. 
And  fills  the  air  with  loud  and  stunning  roars. 
Nothing  impedes  its  course;  nor  trae  nor  rock 
Withstands  the  fury  of  the  sudden  shook ; 
\y-nward  it  oweepH,  nor  even  glances  back, 
'^ut  leaves  destruction  in  its  ruthless  track. 


THE  PROMISES. 


55 


Alas !  that  thus  within  the  human  breast 

Such  furious  passions  should  find  place  to  :  est; 

That  e'er  alFection,  strong  and  bright  to-day, 

Should  wither  ere  to-morrow  wears  away ; 

And  hearts  that  hailed  a  friendship  just  begun, 

Should  fiercely  hate  before  the  set  of  sun ! 

Strange  that  the  lips  that  bless,  and  loudly  raise 

A  song  of  love,  of  honor,  and  of  praise, 

Should  curse  so  soon,  and  should  employ  each  breath 

To  call  down  woe,  and  infamy,  and  death, 

'On  Him  to  whom  they  once  wo  ;.d  bend  the  knee, 

And  gladly  gather  round  to  hear  and  see  ; 

To  whom  they  once  their  ofierings  would  brintr, 

And  cry  aloud,  "  Hosanna  to  our  Kinc^! "      °' 

A  little  group,  with  slow  and  thoughtful  tread, 
Approached  the  dwelling  of  the  silent  dead  — 
That  narrow  house,  the  dark  and  dreary  tomb. 
Where  Death  asserts  his  reign  of  woe  and  gloom. 
But,  lo !  a  Conqueror  comes  in  that  sad  train, 
And  he  shall  burst  death's  icy  bands  in  twain ! 
The  grave  to  him  shall  yield  its  ghastly  prey, ' 
And  even  Death  shall  own  the  Conqueror's  sway ! 

While  that  sad  throng  seek  out  the  lowly  spot,  • 
By  yearning  love  not  for  an  hour  forgot, 
Some  mourn  a  brother,  some  a  cherished  friend. 
And  all  alike  their  tears  of  sorrow  blend. 
Jesus  approaches  where  the  loved  one  sleeps ; 
He  bows  his  head,  —  the  gentle  Saviour  weeps,— 
While  in  his  sighs  and  in  his  sacred  tears. 
Behold  the  man,  the  weeping  man,  appears ! 
But  when  in  thunder  tones  the  Saviour  cries, 
Above  that  tomb,  and  bids  the  captive  rise. 
iSehoId  the  God,  descended  from  above ! 
Behold  the  God,  in  all  his  power  and  love ! 


56 


THE  PR03irSES. 


0,  King  of  terrors !  now  hold  well  thine  own; 
^0  human  force  breathes  in  that  thrillin(/  tone 
He  comes  to  seize  thy  prey ;  0,  Death !  beware  ! 
ror  't  IS  no  common  ioQ  that  meets  thee  there ! 
Compared  with  his,  thy  boasted  strength  is  vain. 
JNot  thine  the  power  the  captive  to  retain 
In  the  dark  prison,  where  entombed  he  lies, 
When  Jesus  bids  the  sleeping  dust  arise. 
The  Saviour  speaks,  and  death's  dominion  shakes; 
The  Saviour  speaks,  the  silent  one  awakes;- 
He  leaves  the  tomb,  obedient  at  his  nod, 
And  in  the  Nazarene  beholds  his  God. 

Now,  tears  of  joy  bedew  each  beaming  face, 
And  sisters  dear  a  brother's  form  embrace ; 
What  heed  they  now  of  sorrow  or  of  fear?' 
A  brother's  voice  breaks  on  the  raptured  ear. 
What  heed  they  l  ;w  of  woe  or  dark  despair? 
Their  eyes  behold  a  living  brother  there. 
A  brother  lives,  a  brother  smiles  once  more, 
And  all  a  sister's  agony  is  o'er. 

Unto  the  rich  man's  feast  a  sinner  came ; 
With  blushes  of  confusion  and  of  shame, 
She  sought  that  place  with  penitential  air, 
For  she  had  hoard  that  Jesus  would  be  there. 
She  heeded  not  the  many  eager  eyes 
That  rested  on  her  face  in  deep  surprise ; 
She  heeded  not  the  splendor  of  the  place'; 
She  only  saw  her  dear  Redeemer's  face. 
And  with  a  tearful  eye  and  timid  mien, 
She  threw  herself  before  the  Nazarene. 
Her  trembling  lips  upon  his  feet  she  pressed, 
Alia  while  the  sobs  broke  from  her  heaving  breast 

A«  !'^'!:^''?u*;^^'^  ^°P^  ^""^Py  ^^^  l^^g  since  fled, 
iiii  vii  iiii^  tiiurc  oi  sweet  peifuiue  ghe  shed. 


THE    PKOMISES. 


57 


A  frown  passed  o'er  the  Pharisee's  proud  face, 
That  thus  a  sinner  dared  to  take  her  place  ; 
Yet  wondered  he  the  more  that  Christ  should  smile 
Upon  a  being  so  forlorn  and  vile 
The  Pharisee  might  frown,  and,  in  his  pride. 
1  rom  the  poor  penitent  might  turn  aside : 
But  Jesus  never  passed  the  sinner  bv 
With  careless  look  or  with  unpityin^  eye. 
And  what  cared  she  that  mourner  ail  forlorn, 
Ihat  others  viewed  her  tears  and  grief  with  scorn 
And  spurned  the  very  ground  on  ^hich  she  trod,  ' 
When  the  sweet  accents  of  the  Son  of  God 
Assuaged  the  sorrows  of  her  troubled  heart. 
And  gently  bade  her  gloomy  fears  depart  ? 
She  caught  her  Saviour's  eye -its  radiant  glow 
Dispersed  the  clouds  of  darkness  and  of  woe: 
She.  saw  him  smile  --  her  sorrows  were  forgot ; 
She  heard  him  speak-  't  was  all  the  mourter  sought  : 
'  Ihy  sins  are  many,  yet  I  will  forgive ;  ^ 

Thou  hast  loved  much,  then  go  thy  way  and  live." 
All  other  passions  now  w^re  lulled  to  rest  • 
Love,  and  love  only,  filled  the  sinner's  breast: 
Love,  and  love  only,  breathed  in  every  tone  - 
Love  perfect  love,  claimed  every  thought  alone 
And  from  that  hour,  through  many  a  trying  scene 
That  ransomed  soul  followed  the  Nazarenef  ' 

And  still  refused  to  leave  her  Sa  four's  side, 
Although  despised,  condemned,  and  crucified. 

From  Olivet's  fair  and  embowered  retreats, 
The  Saviour  nioves  through  Salem's  crowded  streets, 
W  ith  humble  air,  and  clad  in  lowly  guise. 
VVhile  on  each  hand  triumphant  shouts  arise: 
ATid  loyal  hearts  their  adoration  brinff 

And  raise  the  orv.  "  Kngp"""  ♦« i^'^-  -  • .. 

l)aughter  of  Zion!  hail  a  Saviour  nearT^ ' 
Lift  up  thy  head,  behold  thy  King  appear ! 


58 


THE   PROMISES. 


O,  wretched  city !  rouse  thee  ere  too  late, 
Before,  ingratitude  shall  seal  thy  fate ; 
Floe  from  the  wrath  to  come,  before  the  storm 
Shall  spend  its  fury  On  thy  haughty  form. 
The  thunderbolt  from  heaven  will  soon  be  sped, 
And  crushing  fall  upon  thy  guilty  head. 
O  .'then  beware  !  — while  Mercy  pleads  for  thee, 
To  Mercy's  outstretched  arms  for  safety  flee. 
Mercy  still  pleads,  but  cold  and  colder  grown, 
Thou  heed'st  no  longer  Mercy's  pleading  tone. 
And  though  a  Saviour  stands  within  thy  walls. 
And  still  with  love  and  with  compassion  calls, 
And  points  thee  out  the  sure  and  only  path 
That  saves  from  vengeance  and  eternal  wrath ; 
Still  thou  art  heedless  and  too  proud  to  yield  ; 
Ill-fated  city !  now  thy  doom  is  sealed. 

The  Saviour  of  mankind  weeps  o'er  thy  fate ; 
And  thou  shalt  weep,  but  weep  when  't  is  too  late ! 
Thou  scornest  now  the  chosen  of  the  Lord, 
And  thou  shalt  soon  receive  a  just  reward ! 
Thou  scornest  now  ihe  messenger  of  love ; 
'T  is  written  all  in  deep,  dark  lines  above ! 
Thou  hast  rejected  the  anointed  One, 
Thou  hast  rejected  God's  eternal  Son, 
Thou  hast  despised,  mocked,  and  derided  him; 
The  cup  of  wrath  is  filling  to  the  brim  ; 
And  thou  shalt  drain  the  very  dregs  that  flow 
From  that  dread  cup  of  misery  and  woe ! 

The  Saviour  weeps ;  and  when  thy  children's  blood 

4r?^^  ^  ®^  ^^  ^*^^^*®  ^^  ^^^  ^^^'^''  crimson  flood ; 
When  death  in  every  form  and  every  1  le, 
Unveils  his  ghastly  face  unto  thy  view , 
When  dread  destruction  bares  its  fear  il  arm 


A^"= 


AJkUU 


iu  oOuuds  the  aote  of  horror  and  alarm ; 


THB  PROMISES. 


59 


When  want  and  woo,  and  direful  famine  reien  • 
When  shneka  for  hopeless  mercy  rise  in  vai^' 
When  fire  and  sword  shall  lay  thy  pride  fuH  low  • 
Then  thou  shalt  weep;  the  tears  fnCen^  fli?'  "" 
When  thou  Shalt  see  thy  glory  and  thv  »n 
Transferred  to  Gentile  h^LfdsfhrLste  thy  fall  • 
fc  r  f ''"  "'"  ""^^  '"""'ifi^d  retreat       ' 
fhen  fu^  tu-  ^'■"^^"^  *>y  Gentile  feet, 
Then  thou  shalt  raise  thy  streaming  eves  abovp 

J"P'°'-V''«  God  of  merV  and  of  fovTr  ' 

Ihe  God  of  mercy  will  refuse  thy  prayer 
And  hope  shall  yield  her  station  to  despllr. 

Where  is  the  sceptre  ?  let  him  take  his  own  • 

nt  r„V,V^'  r^'V  "P™  *•''"  "<*>«  brow ' 
The  royal  diadem  should  glisten  now. 

A  .UDg  appears ;  but  not  the  proud  and  great  • 
He  comes  not  now  an  earthly  crown  to  gain!  ' 
He  comes  not  now  a  Conqueror  to  reignl 

ind  W  ll-"'"!! '  *'"'''  ^'  f'^y'  hifv'ow, 
And  Zion  s  King  becomes  a  victim  now. 

A  King  appears ;  his  subjects  homase  brinir 
And  shout  for  joy,  "  Hosanna  to  our  Khig  ■  "^* 
But  soon  the  cry  shall  burst  from  every  sfde 
"Away  with  him,  let  him  be  crucified!  "' 
And  while  their  curses  fall  upon  his  head 
By  his  own  people  shall  his  blood  be  S 

A  Victim  comes,  for  man's  sins  to  atone 
Therr^'ri  «iZ^°  fHalUak:  r^hrone. 
Andwhotheor;;;^f™;j;,rof:etV 


60 


THE   PU03IISES. 


The  house  of  David  long  had  stood  unmoved; 
It  could  not  fall  till  rolling  years  had  proved 

God's  promise  sure,  his  declaration  done 

"  A  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a  Son." 
But  when  that  Son,  that  wondrous  Son,  was  born, 
And  made  the  object  of  a  nation's  scorn  ; 
When  scoffing  tones  cried  out,  in  proud  disdain, 
"  We  will  not  have  this  man  o'er  us  to  rei«'n  ;" 
Then  David's  kingdom  fell  to  rise  no  moref 
And  David's  house  beheld  its  glory  o'er. 
The  royal  crown  no  earthly  brow  might  wear, 
And  David's  throne  might  find  no  earthly  heir ; 
Nor  king  nor  prince  shall  press  that  throne  again, 
Till  He  shall  come  whose  right  it  is  to  reign. 


^  ! 


The  day  had  passed.     The  sun's  last  golden  ray, 
Famter  and  fainter  grown,  had  died  away ; 
And  while  the  shades  of  twilight  softly  fell 
O'er  lofty  mountain  and  o'er  lowly  dell, 
The  paschal  lamb  was  slain,  the  feast  prepared, 
J3y  the  disciples  and  their  Master  shared. 
But  why,  0  !  why,  upon  each  thoughtful  brow, 
Rests  that  dark  shade  of  grief  and  sadness  now  ? 

Beside  the  board  a  gracious  Lord  appears 

His  gentle  voice  still  falls  upon  their  ears; 
Within  their  midst  he  still  retains  his  place ; 
Then  why  should  sorrow  cloud  each  manly  face  ? 
Alas !  e'en  now  the  storm  begins  to  shed 
Its  fury  on  that  cherished  Saviour's  head ; 
The  price  is  set,  the  paltry  sum  is  paid. 
The  Son  of  man  is  even  now  betrayed. 

He  speaks ;  alas !  that  sweet  and  tender  tone 
In  this  drear  hour  has  sad  and  sadder  grown ; 
And  tears  half  dim  the  Saviour's  beaming  eye. 
And  from  his  bosom  bursts  the  rising  sigh ; " 


TUB   PBOMtara. 


61 


As  he  survoys,  with  a  paternal  air, 

Ihe  httle  group  assembled  rou..d  him  there 

Of  woe'"Jr'"''\"''"''  ^'"'''  ""•!  ^''ni  a  d^t 

That  one  ^f  1"^""''  *"  "'"''>  ^'''"^^"^  ''O"'- 
Ihat  one  of  their  own  number— one  of  those 

Who  long  have  shared  his  wanderin™  and  his  woe. 
Shall  prove  a  traitor  for  a  base  reward     ""'"'"'- 
A  traitor  to  h  s  Slaster  and  his  Lord    ' 
VVhie  every  cheek  grows  pale  and  paler  still 
And  bitter  pangs  each  troubled  bosom  fi  I,""' 
"Lord  IS  It  I?"  the  trembling  echo  flies 
From  l,p  t„  lip;  a„d  every  he!rt  replies 

And^fiff^'"'-.."''"''^:^  ''y  ^°™"'»  Sng  sigh 
And  a  led  with  anxious  fears,  "Lord  is  it  I?" 

Ren  "IZ!^"  '™^^'  "="'  ""dacious  a  r, 

To  eall  the  Saviour  Lord,  _  't  isMaster  now  • 
But,  as  he  speaks,  with  bold,  unblushing  brow', 

vvitnin  the  traitor's  vile  and  sinful  breast  • 

?o  haTtr'  'rv^^'«"- ""''  bids  h  m  • 

lo  haste  the  work  of  infamy  and  woe. 

0,  wretehed  traitor !  o'er  thy  guilty  son! 

^ho'u  h':r/r  """^"'^  >""*  W  control: 
Ihou  hast  delivered  all  into  his  piwer 

Thlr\*°  "I''  "''"  '^"'^'  that  fatal'hour ' 
Thou  hast  exehanged  thy  masters ;  even  now 
The  infernal  seal  IS  pressed  upon  thy  browT 

lliose  days  of  love  and  harmony  are  o'er  • 

fndtr'Ku'"''"^"'^'^"""*'''';"      ' 
And  thou  Shalt  never  join  that  group  aiain 

Amidst  the  ehosen  few  thou  had^st  thyXe 
Thou  once  couldst  view  »  ««»: •-  Lr.-\ 


02 


THE   PROMISES. 


But  on  thy  fatal  mission  thou  art  gone  ; 
Darknesb  is  round  thee ;  speed,  0,  npeed  thee  on  ! 
IJarkness  is  round  thee ;  0,  how  dark  within  ! 
How  black  the  clouds  of  misery  and  sin  ! 
The  Saviour's  doom  is  seahd,  nor  his  alone, 
i^or,  wretched  traitor,  thou  hast  sealed  thine  own  ! 

Silence  had  reigned  supreme  throughout  the  room. 
And  0  er  each  brow  the  shade  of  grief  and  gloom 
btill  rested  sadly,  while     Uoavv  weight, 
That  strangely  spoke  ot  some  impending  fate, 
Tressed  upon  every  heart,  and  left  its  trace, 
In  mournful  lines,  upon  each  thoughtful  face. 
And  he,  whose  loving  arms  had  oft  entwined 
In  tond  embrace  th^Saviour  of  mankind  — 
He  who  e'en  now  ha  1  found  a  place  of  rest 
Upon  his  Master's  true,  devoted  breast,  — 

Ihat  told  his  love,  his  mingled  hopes  and  fears 
And  as  he  fixed  them,  with  an  anxious  air, 
Un  that  dear  face,  and  gazed  intently  there, 
U  !  who  the  pangs  of  bitter  grief  might  tell 
That  rent  the  heart  which  long  had  loved  so  well, 
When  Christ  foretold  in  sad  and  mournful  strain 
That  thus  on  earth  they  ne'er  should  meet  again: 
That  t  was  the  last  time  he  should  take  his  teat 
Around  the  board,  within  that  lone  retreat : 
Ihen  raised  his  eyes  with  tranquil  air  above, 
And  blessed  the  bread,  the  emblem  of  his  love  ? 

"  This  is  my  body,  broken  for  your  sakes," 
Ihe  feaviour  cries,  and  every  one  partakes. 
"This  IS  my  blood ;  "  the  sparkling  wine  is  poured, 
The  cup  is  passed  around  the  silent  board. 

This  is  my  blood;  for  you  't  is  freely  spilt, 
--.-  --««i.-_  tx  juos,  acuiiciiicnc  lOr  your  guilt. 


THK  PBOMISJES. 

'  SL'  !'  f^V!"'""/  "'■  "'»«  praised  of  old  • 

P„j  «?",7  ™an ;  Ills  ransom  shall  bo  Daid  • 
S°^  ."h?  1  bo  roconcilod;  his  pardWvoice 
Shall  bid  tho  sinner's  fearful  soul  rck>lo 

Pll  ir  *"  'r'  "'-■'='  «»»d«  of  time  are  o'er 
I  11  meet  you  all  around  the  board  onee  more"' 

To 'L^.r' v!^7s"''  ""?  y° ,""' '"' '"  '"in 
A  li.  1  ^^M   ^"T'"' »  well-known  voice  a«ain  • 
A  l.h.o  whilo  and  ye  ,  ill  see  no  more     ^    ' 
The  form  wh.ch  now  ye  fervently  adore; 
A  little  while,  and  where  we  used  to  meet 

leTL"'nrf"'KTf  '''"  ^'-^  "  ~'eat; 

Nor  l!f  'T'"'''^.'  "«''*«'  ■'^  "fraid, 

I  seek  liT  fr-P'-S  «P.'"'»  >>«  dismayed ; 
1  seek  my  Father's  mansions  to  prepare 

Th?^^^  °'  r"'  ""  '"•'«'"  ""-l  glorious,  there  • 
That  where  I  am  my  followers  may  be  ' 

Mh/  i  ^t""^'  y""  S''™"  and  your  God 
Show  ftrth  your  love,  and  tread  the  paths  l'v«  f ,„^ 

A„7  r  •  "?  Pf^P'^'  '^''«''  command  fulfil  ™  *""^' 

Th.„?"^  n  1°  ^°"  ''^"^""ly  FatherrwiU  • 
i''™P/h'ill  dwell  supremely  in  my  love       * 
And  God  the  Father,  from  h^  thr"ife  aboie 
Will  hear  my  prayer,  and  many  a  token  sind 
Of  sweet  remembrance  from  JJlZZT"!:... 

V  ---  "iixs.  iiiviiu. 


M 


68 


64 


Tnfi   PROMISES. 


Ye  long  with  me  have  shared  my  wants  and  woes, 
And  ye  with  me  shall  share  a  sweet  repose ; 
But  while  on  earth  your  weary  footsteps  roam, 
As  strangers,  without  friends,  without  a  home  — 
While  ye  are  wanderers  in  a  desert  land, 
Let  love  unite  each  trusting  heart  and  hand  ; 
Let  peace  and  unity  forever  reign 
Within  your  midst,  nor  burst  those  bands  in  twain; 
Those  sacred  bands  that  make  you  all  as  one 
With  God  the  Fathei-,  and  with  God  the  Son. 
As  I  have  loved,  and  soon  shall  freely  give 
My  life  for  you,  that  ye  through  me  may  live, 
So  should  ye  love  each  other,  and  resign 
All  that  ye  prized  before  for  me  and  mine. 
So  should  ye  love,  and  for  each  other  dare 
A  cruel  death,  and  with  each  other  bear 
The  heavy  yoke  of  grief,  of  care,  and  pain, 
Till  ye  a  world  of  endless  glory  gain, 
And  with  your  Master  find^a  peaceful  rest, 
And  in  his  kingdom  be  forever  blest. 

"  0,  then,  ye  faithful  ones,  beloved  band ! 
Remember  well  your  Saviour's  last  command, 
That  all  the  world  may  view  the  love  divine 
That  proves  this  group  of  dear  disciples  mine. 
While  on  your  lonely  pilgrimage  below, 
Your  path  will  be  through  scenes  of  grief  and  woe; 
Yet  be  not  troubled,  although  foes  arise 
On  every  hand,  and  all  the  world  despise ; 
For  well  ye  know  your  Master  and  your  Lord 
Was  hated  first ;  and  think  of  your  reward. 
If  ye  were  of  the  world,  the  world  would  smile 
Upon  its  own ;  but  now  it  shall  revile. 
Yet  fear  ye  not,  though  by  it  often  cursed ; 
For  know  your  Master  wa«  derided  firHt  • 


THE   PROMISKS. 

But  look  beyond  this  dark  and  dreary  mctht 
And  view  a  morn  of  pure,  unchanging  light; 
And  know  that  when  the  shadows  flee  alav 
And  usher  in  that  long-expected  day, 
^at  ye  shall  stand  upon  a  heavenly  shore. 
Where  sin  and  death  can  trouble  you  no  more :    , 
Where  burning  tears  of  sorrow  ne'er  shaU  faU 
And  happiness  and  glory  be  for  all. 

"The  hour  will  come,  ay,  even  now  is  near, 
When  ye,  who  thus  surround  your  Master  here. 
Will  turn  away,  and  leave  him  all  alone. 
Forget  his  safety,  while  ye  seek  your  own. 
Ihen  will  your  love  be  proved,  your  faith  be  triad. 
When  ye  desert  a  dying  Saviour's  side.  * 

I  have  foretold  of  these  heart-rending  woes. 
I  have  foretold  of  trials  and  of  foes 
That,  when  the  storm  shall  burst  before  your  eves 
When  billows  roar,  and  tempests  dark  aHse,  ^    ' 
ye  may  find  peace  in  me  —  a  quiet  rest 
10  soothe  the  passions  of  your  troubled  breast. 

Will  yield  you  naught  save  woes  and  rude  alarms 
Xour  brightest  earthly  prospects  will  be  crushed :  * 
^ut  let  each  sigh  of  sad  regret  be  hushed. 
I  hough  fiery  darts  against  you  may  be  hurled. 
ue  ot  good  cheer,  I  have  o'ersome  the  world." 

^^  • 

The  great  High  Priest,  with  calm  and  heavenly  air. 
Then  raised  hia  eyes  m  deep  and  fervent  prayer, 

l^!lTl^'\  ^"  '^!''  ^""'^  »^«"r  «f  shame,  ^' 
Ihat  God  the  Son  might  glorify  his  name. 

^or  for  himself  alone  arose  that  prayer, 

^ut  for  the  group  of  dear  disciples  there. 

xnac  tiioy  might  bo  united  stilfin  love, 

And  filled  with  joy  and  blessings  from  above  j 


66 


THE   PROMISES. 


That,  though  the  world  might  hate  them  and  deride. 
Ihey  still  might  cling  unto  each  other's  side  ; 
And,  knit  together  in  one  holy  band, 
Might  journey  through  a  wild  and  dreary  land  : 
lill,  every  trial  o'er,  they  all  might  meet. 
And  round  the  throne  of  God  each  other  greet, 
Where  they  would  find  a  great,  a  rich  reward, 
And  share  the  glory  of  their  risen  Lord. 

Not  for  that  group  alone  did  Jesus  plead, 
Nor  for  that  group  alone  did  intercede ; 
No,  mourning  Christian,  tossed  on  life's  dark  sea! 
While  yet  on  earth,  thy  Saviour  prayed  for  thee ! 
^efore  the  cross  was  reared  on  Calvary's  brow 
He  prayed  for  thco !  He  's  paid  thy  ransom  now. 
Ihat  prayer  arose  for  each  believing  Jew ; 
And,  ransomed  Gentile,  Jesus  prayed  for  you  ! 


PART  IX. 

Ye,  who  have  plunged  beneath  the  crimson  tide 
Ihat  flows  in  torrents  from  the  Saviour's  side, 
Yet  oft  distressed  and  tempted  to  repine 
At  the  just  dealings  of  a  hand  divine ; 
Think  of  your  Master,  —  of  the  Man  of  woes,  — 
Then  blush  that  from  your  lips  one  murmur  flows. 
He  found  no  place  to  lay  his  weary  head. 
Save  where  the  drops  of  chilling  dew  were  shed ; 
He  blessed  his  murderers  with  his  latest  breath,  * 
And  died  for  you  a  base  and  painful  death. 
Then  cease  your  sad  complaints,  your  mercies  own, 
And  fall  before  your  heavenly  Father's  throne  • 
Your  Mediator  view,  his  love  adore,  ' 

Aad  praioo  iiis  uamo  for  ever,  evermore. 


TUJS  PBOMISES. 

Ifr^  ?"■"*''*  ^'"S.  With  sadly-drooping  head. 
From  hi8  own  aon  in  fear  and  terror  fled 
And  crossed  the  stream,  pursued  by  raeiL  foe- 
While  from  h.s  breast  the  troubled  sigh  aroe' 

t  D     -I.'  «*  ""^^  »'■'»"»''  marked  hi   fac'e  • 
So  David's  Heir  passes  the  self-same  place, 

I^r  In    .k"  r*"  r*  "■"*  destruction  lie  ; 
ior,  lo !  tho  Son  of  David  comes  to  die ! 

Whf]«S  '•'.'""'f  ^"'^  '^'"'  P^x^ive  air, 
And  f„r  .K  T '?''•'  "'"""'y  '■»»»w  there,       ' 

Where  he  was  wont  with  that  dear  grouo  to  meet  • 
But  separation  now  and  death  arc  n^ar  !!^      ""*' ' 

All  „ir-  °?  """'1  "•"'«  '"''^d  disciples  here 
^";  " ''  "?'"'  "■"•  «'!".  ""d  scarce  a  breeze' 
Sighs  through  the  branches  of  the  lofty  trte^ 

OtVIn  *''*  ^  'f"'^  ^P"'  ■■^"^  east  an  S 
Of  gloom  and  sadness  on  each  object  there 

Of  mVhM  ".""r"  '^'^  *«  ■"« Aed  qTeea 
aL  1  V?'''  '*'"'"  "P""  "-^  'o'emn  scene. 
And  sheds  her  rays  upon  her  Maker's  brow   _ 
Ah !  does  she  know  that  Maker  suffers  now  ? 

In  fervent  prayer,  upon  the  dark  ercen  sod 
Be  oH   behoW.  the  suffering  Son  of  ff^d"   "''■ 

O  wh.  f  r'u°  7^  '"''^'^  ""'»  ''«»™''  above  !  _ 
O,  what  a  look  of  agony  and  love ! 

Whi  !  ^1  u-  ^r^'  ''5"«  ^^  *^»"'er's  throne. 
While  from  his  bosom  bursts  the  hoavv  eroan 
Whde  drops  of  blood,  that  stain  the  ZVZ~ 

O  wha,T'"^      'rs  of  grief  and  anguish  flow,- 

.71,    ?!  ",  *"■•>■  "^^  f™™  the  achiiia  hear" 

"My  Father,  let  this  bitter  cup  depaH 

If  such  thv  will  •  ;e  „„.  .u..  ."-,, T*  .' 

T-  iL*    1   '\   ',""  '   "  ""^'  *•",>'  wiii  De  done  i  " 

In  this  dark  hour  thus  cries  the  suffering  Son, 


87 


i 


68 


IHS  PEOMISES. 


While  every  word  rings  in  the  Father's  ear, 
And  weeping  angels  wonder  as  they  hear. 
All  heaven  is  gazing  on  the  dreadful  sight ! 
Throughout  its  mansions  of  eternal  light 
Silence  now  reigns;  celestial  forms  appear; 
On  noiseless  wing  they  move  from  sphere  to  sphere ; 
And,  kneeling  there  upon  the  blood-stained  sod, 
They  twine  their  arms  around  the  Son  of  Gt)d. 

O,  sinner,  to  that  garden  now  repair  ! 
Behold  the  dreadful  scene  enacted  there  ! 
Behold  the  blood,  behold  the  tears  that  fall, 
And  tell  the  anguish  of  the  Lord  of  all ! 
Behold  the  depths  of  agony  and  woe 
Those  up-raised  eyes,  those  death-like  features  show ! 
List  to  the  wild  and  the  heart-rending  cries 
That  from  his  pale  and  trembling  lips  arise ; 
Then  quickly,  sinner,  to  his  bosom  flee, 
For  Jesus  suffers  all  this  woe  for  thee  ! 
Thy  sins  are  laid  upon  his  guiltless  head, 
And  for  thy  sake  alone  those  tears  are  shed ; 
For  thee  alone  he  drinks  the  cup  of  pain  ; 
O  !  shall  he  drink  that  bitter  draught  i'^  vain  ? 
Unhappy  soul !  and  can  it,  can  it  be. 
That  Jesus  suffers  all  these  pangs  for  thee. 
And  thou  art  still  unmoved?  canst  still  deride, 
And  east  such  deep,  such  wondrous  love  aside  ? 
Ah  !  then  the  sobs  that  heave  that  bursting  heart 
Have  sealed  thy  doom  ;  thy  sentei  je  is,  "  Depart !  *■ 
And  the  same  lips  that  breathe  the  earnest  prayer, 
Shall  speak  that  word  of  horror  and  despair ! 

How  strange  the  scene !  in  agony  and  tears,  ' 
And  bathed  in  blood,  the  Bon  of  God  appears ; 
While  his  disciples  fold  upon  their  breast 

'Pr«/i»i«    f>i»%ia      «i>^^    ..^..1.    I„x~ j.l_'__^   ^        , 

^iiVii    SiUJC,    SUU   w*4*u    iiii>v   a  S\)\i'%iliillu    kQoZf 


Tini  PBOMIOBS.  f 

And  peaceful  slumbers  guard  each  quiet  brow ; 
O,  how  forgetful  of  their  Master  now ! 
With  pallid  cheek  he  seeks  their  resting-place, 
And  mournfully  he  gazes  on  each  face; 
Then  in  a  tone  of  sorrow  and  surprise, 
Mingled  with  love  and  mild  reproach,  he  cries  : 
"What !  do  ye  sleep  ?  could  ye  not  watch  one  hour  ? 
^eware,  beware  ye  of  the  tempter's  power !  " 
Again  he  prays;  again  the  sighs  of  grief 
Buret  from  the  heart  which  finds  no  sweet  relief; 
And  all  the  pangs  the  human  heart  e'er  felt, 
By  dark  despair  or  cruel  torment  dealt, 
And  all  the  pangs  the  heart  may  ever  know, 
Were  naught  compared  to  that  dark  cup  of  woe 
Ihat  Jesus  drinks,  the  great  Anointed  One ; 
And  meekly  cries,  «  Father,  thy  wUi  be  done!" 

And  while  such  pangs  their  Master^s  bosom  fill, 
Ihe  trail  disciples,  are  they  sleeping  still  ? 
Ah,  little  group  !  unconscious  of  the  storm 
That  darkly  gathers  round  your  Master's  form, 
btrong  in  your  boasted  lovo,  how  will  ye  stand? 
The  dreadful  hour  of  trial  is  at  hand. 
O !  then  look  up,  and  seek  support  above, 
lor  'tis  the  trial  of  your  faith  and  love. 
And  yet  they  slumbered ;  balmy  sleep  stUl  pressed 
Iheir  weary  eyes,  and  soothed  the  troubled  breast, 
When  the  sad  accents  pierced  each  heavy  ear : 
"Sleep  on,  and  take  your  rest;  the  hour  is  here; 

I  am  betrayed,  —  to  sinners  basely  sold, 

And  the  vile  traitor  even  now  behold !  " 

Scarce  had  he  ceased  v/hen  fearful  sounds  were  heard, 
And  DOW  and  then  a  quick,  half-whispered  word 
Broke  harshlv  nn  iha  r<iiIof  axr^^l^^  ^:_. 

And  flaming  torches  cajst  a  lurid  glare 


70 


THE   PROMISES. 


Upon  the  startled  garden,  which  lofore 
An  air  of  calm  and  peaceful  beauty  wois. 
While  flashing  swords  gave  terror  to  the  scene, 
Judas  approached  the  tranquil  Nazareii  j, 
And  boldly  dared  his  former  Lord  address, 
And  basely  dared  that  holy  One  car. 


'Oa3„ 


"  Whom  do  you  seek  ?  "  the  Saviour  calmly  cried. 
«  The  Nazarene,"  the  furious  mob  replied. 
"  Then  I  am  he ;  "  and  as  the  accents  came, 
Deep  terror  shook  each  strong  and  manly  frame  • 
They  felt  his  power,  — they,  owned  that  power  com- 
plete, — 
And,  awe-struck,  fell  prostrate  at  Jesus'  feet. 
With  kindling  eye  and  with  excited  mien 
The  Saviour's  followers  gazed  upon  the  scene ; 
And  one,  whose  high,  whose  rs  'h,  but  generous  s^n] 
la  passion's  hour  had  never  brooked  cortrol  * 

Ca,ight  Tip  his  sword  and  dealt  a  fuHou   ^  o,?, 
Which  threatened  instant  death  unto  his  mc 
But  hoaT<=!nly  wisdom  guided  that  proud  am;  ~  - 
The  swor^  ieacended,  — -  lo  !  the  only  burm, 
One  bleediijn^  member  fell  upon  the  grouwl' 
Jesus  drew  ^war,  he  touched  the  ghastly  \^ound,  — 
The  wound  wus  hea'  ^d.     0  !  in  that  gloomy  hour 
What  proofs  of  love,  of  superhuman  ^ower ! 
And  how  dare  they,  wk  ,  have  both  felt  and  seen 
That  wondrous  power,  approach  the  Nazarene? 
How  dare  they  bind  his  forui,  when  but  a  breath 
Might  then  have  brought  the  sirnal  of  their  death  7 
How  dare  they  ?     Ah  !  't  is  Satun's  triumph  hour,  — 

Iho  Frmce  of  Darkness  now  asserts  his  power, 

The  Serpent  rules  eacli  heart,  directs  each  deed  ; 
That  Serpent  soon  will  bruise  the  "  woman's  Seed.'* 

v.;rgeu  onwara  oy  tae  rude  aad  lawless  throng, 
The  Saviour  of  mankind  passes  along 


i 


THE   PROMISES.         *  *l\ 

With  fettered  hands  and  with  undaunted  brow  i 
But  where,  0  !  where,  are  his  disciples  now  ? 
Not  following  him,  his  pains  and  griefs  to  share ; 
Not  by  his  side,  —  O,  no,  they  are  not  there! 
•When  trials  came,  and  threatenings  dark  and  drear 
Foretold  the  tempest  in  its  fury  near, 
The  frail  disciples,  with  alarm  and  dread, 
Beheld  the  gathering  storm,  and  basely  fled ; 
Left  biin  alon^;  vmid  his  heartless  foes, 

Wii !ioui  a.  friend  to  )?ntigate  his  woes, 

Witroat,  a  friend  t ;  d.op  a  pitying  tear. 

Or  f)c<;ktli'.>  tht^  W03  I.  lO  wounded  spirits  dear. 

Far  in  the  distance,  while  the  shades  of  night 
Closely  concealed  his  form  from  human  sight, 
One  of  that  Lcattf  red  band,  with  timid  mien, 
Ju3fc  kf,pt  ?n  view  the  captive  Nazarene. 
And  cai?  k  bo  the  trembling  coward  there 
Is  Ise  ^ybo  once,  with  bold  and  zealous  air, 
Protested  that,  whatever  might  betide. 
He  still  would  cling  unto  his  Master's  side? 

He  still  would  follow,  though  it  were  to  die  ? 

Yet  now  he  comes  that  Master  to  deny ! 

I«  the  proud  hall  of  sin,  —  the  dark  retreat, 

Where  bitter  strife  and  deadly  hatred  meet, 

The  Baviou§  stands,  —  himself  alone  serene, — 

And  calmly  gazes  on  the  fearful  scene ; 

While  eyes  that  flash  and  tell  the  inward  storm 

Are  fixed  upon  his  firm  and  noble  form. 

And  murderous  hands  his  smiling  brow  dare  smite, 

Has  he  no  friend  to  plead  his  cause  to-night? 

0  !  has  the  friend  of  every  friendless  name. 

Whose  love  and  pity  all  alike  might  claim, 

Who  never  J)ade  the  mourning  one  depart. 
But  found  a  balm  for  every  wounded  heart  — 


T2 


THE  PRoatais. 


T^f„^.  "  n  '?'*"^  ^  ''""*  '''''  8"«'"  »"<»  shame, 
lo  face  all  dangers  to  confess  his  name  7 

Alas !  alas !  in  this  dark  hour  of  woe 
He  finds  no  friend,  he  finds  no  pitvinp  foe  • 
Mocked  and  betrayed  rejected  and  dtspis^l, 

While  foes  insult,  above  each  taunt  and  jeer 

A  W  k"?u  """"?  '■""«  ""'  «»«  Saviour's  ear ! 
A  few  short  hours  before,  that  very  tone 

Whispered  of  love,  of  endless  love  alone- 
And  now,  #hile  false  accusers  there  arise, 
WZT-  't'^lT  ""^  '"""^  i»  their  ey^s,- 
Ah^y',u"^J'"^,  '^'"  ^''^  Wasphemiis  blend. - 
He  ioins   hi      ^'f  '^■'"'P''  P^™  "  fri«"<J ' 

Ht^-^^»s:h^-^^»et^.£-p.ve 

He  has  denied  his  Lord  ;  again  he  sneak. 
No  burning  blush  mantles  JhetlrdW  eels" 
Again  denies,  with  bold  and  angry  mien,'        '~ 
His  friendship  for  the  humble  lazarene 

Xhe  Man  ot  sorrows  who  now  meets  his  view 
That  fearful  oath  has  reached  the  Vic  iJw- 

whttr§  'r  '"f  p''"^'™  brow  hrh*::7' 

UdoM^p  •  "tu""*^  ""'0  "  *"»<»  denies. 
Upon  that  friend  he  turns  his  mournful  eyes. 

That  gentle  look  has  pierced  the  wayward  heart  • 

In  vain  he  strives  those  teardrops  to  control  — 
In  torrents  down  his  crimson  oh^ks  th^y  ^^  1 


THK   PROMISES.  78 

The  cock's  aht'iW  *iiote  has  fullon  oft  his  e»r8, 
Aghast  he  stands  and  trembles  as  he  hears. 
At  that  one  note  what  wild  emotions  thrill ! 
What  bitter  panes  his  swelling  bosom  fill ! 
And  memory  alraround,  with  sudden  start, 
Brings  back  the  words  unto  his  bursting  heart 
That  fell  from  Jesus'  lips :  "  The  time  is  nigh 
When  thou  thj  Lord  and  Master  wilt  deny. 
Before  the  morn  shall  gild  with  radiant  glow 
I'he  eastern  hills,  oi*  ere  the  cock  shall  orow^ 
Thou  wilt  deny  me  thrice."     O  !  what  a  power 
That  signal  sound  possesses  in  this  hour  ! 
The  trembling  form,  the  pale  and  tearful  cheek, 
Tell  of  the  woe  no  human  tongue  may  speak. 
Unable  longer  to  endure  the  scene, 
He  casts  one  glance  upon  the  Nazarene ; 
His  heart  is  breaking  with  emotions  deep, 
He  seeks  a  place,  a  lonely  place,  to  weep. 
And  while  he  sheds  the  tears  of  sad  regret, 
His  Master's  form  appears  before  him  yet ; 
He  sees  him  mocked  and  scorned  on  every  side, 
And,  more  than  all,  he  sees  his  Lord  denied  1 

Ah,  boastful  one !  —  thy  strength  thine  only  shield, 
Temptation  came,  and  thou  didst  tamely  yield. 
But  after  years  of  noble  toil  and  pain 
Have  washed  away  the  momentary  stain ; 
And  he  who  once  his  Master  there  denied, 
Boldly  confessed  his  Lord,  though  crucified ; 
Before  a  mocking  race,  a  frowning  world. 
The  bloc'-stained  banner  of  the  tjross  unfurled; 
Nor  ever  blushed  to  own  his  Master's  name, 
Although,  like  him,  exposed  to  death  and  shame. 
But  gloried  in  his  cross,  and  made  his  theme 
Salvation  through  the  risen  Nazarene, 


74 


THE   rROMISES. 


With  fearless  soul,  till  life's  last  pang  was  o'er, 
He  trod  the  path  hh  Master  trod  befbre,  ' 

While  scorn  and  malice  poured  a  raging  flood. 
And  sealed  his  mission  with  a  martyr's  blood. 


PART    X. 

The  streams  that  flowed  from   Calvary''        -r,/! 
stained  hill 
Are  flowing  for  the  guiltj  sinner  still; 
The  woman's  Seed,  who  died  on  Calvarj'b  brow 
Is  pleading  for  the  guilty  sinner  now;  ' 

And  trusting  ones,  who,  in  his  name  alone 
Implore  for  mercy  at  his  Father's  throne  ' 
Shall  view  the  Father's  smiling  face,  nnd  see 
balvation's  waters  ever  flowing  frc^. 

The  dreary  night  at  length  had  paised  away; 
Blood-thirsty  hearts  hailed  the  H^roach  of  day ; 
1  he  Prince  of  Darkness  marshaliod  all  his  host. 
His  faithful  ones,  his  glory,  and  his  boast : 
Instilled  his  spirit  into  every  soul, 
And  o'er  each  movement  held  complete  control 
His  hour  had  come,  and,  filled  with  hope  and  fear 

He  saw  the  stroke,  the  fatal  stroke,  draw -ear;     ' 

lUe  berpent  then  used  all  his  power  indeea, 

±0  bruise  and  smite  the  "  woman's  promised  Seed.'* 

On  that  dread  morn  of  horror  and  alarm. 
Almighty  justice  bared  its  fearful  arm ; 
Demanding  blood,  from  the  eternal  throne, 
±or  broken  laws ;  and  Jesus  gave  his  own 
"  liO !  I  come,  Father,  to  fulfil  thy  law  — 
ilio  sentence  and  the  doom  nf  m-..  „;+kj ._. . 


"    > 


THE  PROMISES. 


76 


n/^. 


•    ■  * 


Of  me  alone  its  duo  let  justice  take, 

And  spare  the  blood-bought  sinner  for  my  sake." 

Soon  as  the  sun,  arising  to  the  sight, 
With  orient  beams  dispersed  the  shades  of  night, 
The  Son  of  Uod,  the  mighty  Lord  of  all,       ^ 
Calm  and  serene,  entered  the  judgment-hall  ; 

?^a,i^nr'Jf      K^'*/'^^r/^'  '"^^^  '^'  ^^^  ^°^  strife, 

Uamored  for  blood  and  for  the  Saviour's  life 
Jliach  accusation  Jesus  calmly  heard ; 
His  lips  breathed  not  one  justifying  'word  • 
Not  one  offended  loo^  his  features  wore    * 
Not  one  dark  frown  his  lovely  brow  pas^d  o'er  ; 
When  by  the  guilty  and  the  base  reviled, 
J  he  hon  of  God  in  sweet  submission  smiled:  ' 
And  Pilate  wondered  as,  with  eager  air. 
He  glanced  around  upon  the  rabble  there 
Then  turned  his  eyes  upon  the  Nazarene,* 
Where  God-like  love  and  majesty  were  seen ; 
Ht  gazed  awhile,  his  beaming  eye  grew  dim, 
He  cried  aloud,  "  I  find  nc  fault  in  him  " 
But  hearts  that  thirsted  raised  again  the  cry 
In  wilder  tones,  "  Let  the  blasphemei   lie  '  "  — 
11  What  evil  hath  he  done  ?  "    Each  voice  replied. 

Away  V  h  him  —  let .  Im  be  crucified !  " 

The  raging  cf^wd,  impatxoat  of  the  scene. 
Heaped  their  invectives  on  th    Xazarene 
And  loudly  sought  that  one    aould  'o  released 
According  to  the  custom  ot  their  *      f 
Which  then  drew  near  (alas  !  before  ihe'>  eyes. 
With  tranquil  brow,  appeared  the  sacrifice : 
Ihe  chosen  Lam',  stood  bv  the  altar's  side: 
His  doom  is  sealed ;  let  him  be  crucified). 
^^  nd  when  their  ruler,  on  whosA  fpQt.rn;r,«V„«« 
iJeep  tboug]  t  and  anxious  care  had  left°thei7traoe, 


re 


THB  fmhiisas. 


tt 


Once  more  demanded,  with  excited  mien, 
What  shall  I  do,  then,  with  the  Nazarene?"— . 
Away  with  him  ! "  the  r^rious  rabble  cried, 
"  Away  with  him  !  —  let  him  be  crucified  !  " 
Then  he  released  the  guilty  and  the  vile. 
And  shouts  of  approbation  rose  the  while ; 
And  those  fierce  shouts  grew  loud  and  louder  still 
As  he  delivered  JesuB  to  their  will ! 

Scourged,  and  reviled,  and  mocked  by  e-^   .y  eye, 
The  Saviour  of  mankind  comes  forth  to  die, 
Wearing  the  scarlet  robe  —  the  crc  vn  of  thorns 
Upon  the  brow  which  still  a  smile  adorns ; 
And  in  his  hand  a  paltry  reed  he  ^orc, 
Placed  there  by  scoffing  ones  who  knelt  before, 
4°i.-.^°"^'^  cried,  in  tones  of  proud  disdain,— 
While  every  voice  caught  up  the  bitter  strain, 
And  every  knee  was  bent  in  mockery  there, 

As  burst  that  shout  upon  the  quiet  air, 

From  lips  that  dared  at  God's  own  Son  to  rail? 
That  cry  arose,  "  Hail,  mighty  King  !  all  hail ! » 

Ah  !  ye  who  round  the  smitten  Saviour  bow, 
And  place  the  thorny  crown  upon  his  brow, 
And  in  his  hand,  in  this  last,  trying  hour,  ' 
The  slender  reed,  as  emblem  of  his  power; 
The  time  will  come,  the  awful  morn  will  rise, 
When  the  last  trump  shall  rend  the  vaulted  skies,— 
When  vivid  lightnings  glare,  and  thunders  roll. 
And  strike  their  terrors  to  the  guilty  soul,  — 
When  heaven's  bright  legions  shall  to  earth  descend 
In  dreadful  pomp,  and  time  itself  shall  end : 
Then  ye  shall  view,  the  foremost  in  the  scene, 
ihe  now  despised,  rejected  Nazarene  ; 
JNot  decked  in  tfarm<»n*o  ♦v^"*  Uf>«^^„i_  !.?_   r  _ 
JJut  robed  m  power,  'mid  storm  and  raging  flame ; 


THE  PROMISfig.  17 

No  croTrn  of  thorng,  euoh  as  he  weareth  now. 

^ut  dmdeir.^  of  glory  on  his  brow  ; 

^0  fragile  reed  that  mighty  arm  shall  gway   * 

Above  his  foes  in  that  tremendous  day ; 

A  rod  of  iron  shall  supplant  the  reed 

In  the  strong  hand  of  the  appointed  Seed  ! 

ihat  rod  shall  fall,  with  unrelenting  blow, 

And  dash  in  pieces  evory  trembling  foe ; 

And  while  they  sink  'mid  wails  of  deep  despair. 

inat  rise  m  vain  upon  the  lurid  air, 

And  loudly  shriek,  with  wild  and  haggard  mien. 

^or  hopeless  mercy  to  the  Nazarene, 

The  Serpent,  too,  shall  writhe  beneath  his  tread. 

The  woman's  Seed  shall  bruise  the  Serpent's  head. 

The  sun  shone  brightly  in  the  azure  sky, 
Uilding  each  shining  dome  and  turret  high,  -^ 
The  warbler's  notes  broke  on  the  balmy  air, 
The  vine  and  fig-tree  shed  their  fragrance  there,  — 
As  through  the  towering  gates  a  lawless  throng, 
VV  ith  ribald  jeers  and  curses,  passed  along ; 
While  m  their  midst,  with  an  unearthly  mien, 
Bearing  his  crosfl,  a  noble  form  was  seen. 
With  bloody  brow,  which  cruel  thorns  had  pressed. 
With  palhd  cheek,  and  with  a  heaving  breast. 
He  struggled  on  beneath  the  heavy  weight 
Of  that  huge  cross,  —  the  burden  was  too  great : 
iamter  and  fainter  grown  at  every  breath, 
While  o'er  his  features  spread  the  hue  of  death, 
His  trembling  limbs  the  cross  refused  to  bear. 
And  bowed  beneath  the  shameful  burden  there. 
And,  while  another  the  dread  emblem  bore. 
The  taunting  mob  pressed  on  their  way  once  more; 
When,  far  above  the  noise  and  tumult  there,      ' 
ixcOo©  a,  waii  of  ttijguiah  and  despair ; 


78 


TUB  PR0MISK8. 


For  faithful  friends,  whoso  tears  in  torrents  poured, 
Wh©  long  had  loved,  had  worshipped  and  adored, 
And  shared  the  sorrows  of  the  Nazareno, 
Now  gazed  in  horror  on  that  dreadful  scene. 
Well  they  remembered  that  when  grief  and  woe 
f^d  laid  their  hopes,  their  fondest  hopes,  full  low,— 
.''hen  death  had  taken  all  they  prized  on  earth, 

And  severed  loved  ones  reared  around  one  hearth, 

When  foes  had  risen  with  malicious  art, 
And  pointed  arrows  at  the  aching  heart,  — 
Well  they  remembered  how  a  soothing  voice 
Had  gently  bade  their  drooping  souls  rejoice ; 
Well  they  remembered  how  a  smiling  face 
Had  bent  o'er  those  that  slept  in  death's  embrace,— 
Had,  with  one  gesture,  burst  death's  bands  in  twain, 
Restored  their  loved  ones  to  their  arms  again ; 
Well  they  remembered  how  a  faithful  friend 
Unto  their  woes  a  pitying  ear  would  lend,  — 
Would  shelter  them  I'rom  every  rude  alarm. 
And  throw  round  them  his  all-supporting  arm. 
To  guard  and  shield  them  from  the  gathering  blast,— 
A  steadfast  friend,  who  loved  them  to  the  last. 
And  as  they  saw  that  friend,  in  love  the  same, 
Marked  for  a  felon's  doom,  —  a  death  of  shame,  — 
From  trembling  lips  a  piercing  cry  arose, 
A  cry  of  anguish  for  the  Man  of  woes. 

That  wild  lament  fell  on  the  Saviour's  car ; 
Sadly  ho  turned  —gazed  on  that  group  so  dear, 
Listened  awhile  to  catch  each  plaintive  moan. 
Then  murmured  in  a  low  and  tender  tone  ; 
"  Ye  mournings  ones,  your  lamentations  keep; 
Weep  for  yourselves,  and  for  your  children  weep !  ** 

The  train  passed  on,  gained  Calvary'^  quiet  hill ; 
The  eager  crowd  stood  motionlcs;?  and  still. 


THE  PROMISES. 


79 


But  hark  !  0,  hark !  from  Canary's  sacred  brow 
1  ho  cruel  strokes  sound  loud  and  louder  now : 
Ihe  upraised  hammer  deals  the  furious  blow  : 

sfrnV?    fV      ""!  'T"'^'^  *^'«"  ^^^^^'"8  »^^«d8  below. 

btroke  after  stroke  the  echoing  hills  repeat : 
The  heavy  iron  rends  the  Saviour's  feet. 
Un  human  ears  the  dreadful  echo  rings, 
And  listening  angels  wave  their  shining  wines 
In  horror  and  amaze,  while  tears  of  woe 
Adown  their  cheeks  in  sudden  torrents  flow: 
And  stainless  hearts,  that  never  sighed  before, 
With  grief  and  sorrow  now  are  gushing  o'er. 

On  either  hand  another  cross  was  reared  : 
A  malefactor  on  each  cross  appeared.; 
While  in  their  midst,  as  vilest  of  the  three, 
Ihe  bon  of  God  hung  on  the  cursed  tree. 
Around  the  cross  the  furious  rabble  stood, 
And  as  they  marked  the  agony -the  blood - 
i.oud  peals  of  laughter  shook  the  azure  sky. 
And  priests  and  rulers  joined  the  taunting  cry. 
But  over  all  one  yearning  prayer  arose,  1    ^ 

"/„.,"'.  '^^.'''  \^^  '«  P^^^ding  for  his  foes  !  - 
father,  forgive  them  !  "  those  sweet  accents  fell 
Upon  the  ear  which  loved  th«t  voice  so  well : 
1  hose  very  tones,  e'en  now  so  loud  and  clear 
Are  ringing  in  the  Father's  holy  ear  ; 
Ihe  melting  prayer  that  rose  from  Calvary's  hill 
Kesoands  throughout  the  heavenly  mansions  still. 

The  wretched  thief,  wilh  wildly  heaving  heart. 
With  writhing  brow,  and  livid  lips  apart,^  ' 

With  eyes  that  rolled  in  agony  and  woe. 
Looked  sadly  down  upon  the  scene  below, 
xnen  guzuu  upon  the  dying  Saviour's  face, 
Where  love  and  pity  found  a  resting-place. 


80 


THI  PR0MISS8. 


He  saw  him  raise  his«beaining  eyes  above  ; 

He  heard  that  prayer,  —  that  prayer  of  wondrous  love, 

It  fired  the  heart  which  guilt  had  rendered  cold  ; 

Adown  his  sunburnt  cheeks  the  tear-drops  rolled  j 

Faith,  all  exulting,  found  a  place  of  rest 

Within  the  felon's  dark  and  guilty  breast ; 

She  pointed  to  the  Victim  by  "his  side, 

She  bade  him  gaze  upon  the  ghastly  tide 

Which  freely  gushed  from  his  Redeemer's  veins, 

That  he  might  wash  away  his  filthy  stains  ; 

Then  pointed  far  beyond  that  scene  of  gloom. 

Far,  far  beyond  the  cold  and  dreary  tomb. 

To  the  blest  morn  when  the  pale  sufferer  there 

Would  be  proclaimed  as  God's  eternal  heir. 

With  swelling  heart,  though  with  a  fainting  frame, 

The  dying  thief  called  on  his  Saviour's  name  : 

"  When  thou  shalt  sit  upon  thy  glorious  throne, 

And  take  the  crown  and  kingdom  for  thine  own ; 

When  earth  its  dread,  its  awful  Judge  shall  see, 

In  that  great  day,  0  Lord,  remember  me  ! " 

A  ray  of  joy  the  Saviour's  brow  passed  o'er, 
A  smile  of  love. his  gentle  features  wore, 
As,  in  a  calm  and  tender  voice,  he  cried  : 
"  When  thou  shalt  cross  death's  dark  and  dismal  tide, 
A  scene  of  bliss  shall  on  thy  vision  rise, 
And  thou  shalt  be  with  me  in  Paradise." 
0,  glorious  promise  to  that  troubled  soul ! 
What  though  the  streams  of  ghastly  life-blood  roll  ? 
What  though  the  pangs  of  nature  rack  thy  brain  ? 
Thy  griefs  will  soon  be  past,  thy  spirit  gain 
A  place  of  rest,  —  a  bright,  a  happy  shore,  t 

Where  sin  and  grief,  where  pain  and  death,  are  0*©r. 
And  when  thy  Saviour  from  the  bending  skies 

C!L_ii  k:j  aU-  u_j:«s  _r  u:.-  __:_a ?__ 


THS  PR0MI8K8. 


Vtom  every  sUm  of  earthly  passion  free. 
Thy  gracious  Lord  will  then  remember  thee. 

A  little  group,  with  tearful  cheek  and  eye, 
Sl^^  hJ".?  ■"""*  *^'"  ^"^^"^  ^*^  sorrow's  sigh. 

Non^bu^t  alZr;  l"^  ,"!'*  *''«™  """  "^ose  loe 
W°"!,       "."""'e''  s  breaking  heart  might  knew ' 

And  flrr'"«  T  "'''  '^'^  '">  ''iid^deapairr' 

A^d  1 1 "'"'"  '."f  '""^  ~  ^^^  Vi<='™  there.  . 

And  as  she  saw  the  streams  of  life-blood  start 

iTdVv7vrr'/"'"«  '■™'»  l-o-  bursti  'i  heart; 
And  every  look  of  sorrow  and  of  pain 
faeemed  as  't  would  rend  that  mother's  breast  in  twain 
And  by  her  side  appeared  a  manly  form, 

All  heedless  of  the  scornful  lip  and  eye 
Ho  only  saw  that  bleeding  fori,  on  high ; 
He  only  saw  that  dear,  devoted  friend : 

F.!r7%       .'"■"T"  "'■  ^"^^'"g  blood  descend 

fn  fin     V"""  \*"''''  »■""  "ft  •"•<'  clasped  his  owa 
In  fond  embraco  that  told  of  love  alone. 

He  saw  the  brow,  which  he  had  oa  caressed. 

All  pa  e  and  mangled,  and  the  loving  breast 

Andl'^l  '■'  °^.  'f^'^'''^  "i"*  ohSe  air. 
And  gently  nestled  close  and  closer  there,  - 

While  the  pure  heart  with  love  too  strong  to  soeak 
Had  fondly  throbbed  against  his  pillow^ahe^  _ 
He  saw  that  breast  heaving  With  woe  and  pak- 
Deep  anguish  rac-kcd  his  wildly  burning  bra'L"  ' 
And  as  the  raging  billows  o'er  him  sweL       ' 
The  loved  disciple  bowed  his  head  and  wept. 

With  yearning  heart  the  dying  Saviour  <?a»«l 
Upon  the  pair ;  his  failing  voioe  he  rS  f^ 

Those  gentle  word,  fell  oa  the  mother's  ea!^ 


82 


THE  ffiOMISES. 


»*  Behold  thy  son ! "  ho  long  has  followed  mo, 
And  for  my  sake  will  love  ^nd  cherish  thee. 
Then,  turning  to  that  fond  and  faithful  one, 
"  Behold  thy  mother  !  "  bo  to  her  a  son. 
O,  precious  trust !  that  noble  one  how  blest ! 
What  deep  emotions  fill  his  heaving  breast ! 
He  '11  keep  the  sacred  charge,  till  life  shall  end ; 
That  mother  still  will  find  in  him  a  friend, 
W4iose  tender  voice  her  sorrows  will  assuage. 
And  gently  soothe  her  earthly  pilgrimage. 

Deep  terror  brooded  o'er  Judea's  land  ; 
A  dreadful  silence  reigned  on  every  hand ; 
The  orb  of  day  gazed  on  the  wondroas  sight, 
And  then  drew  back  in  horror  and  affright ! 
A  cry  arose  of  agony  and  pain, 
Ne'er  heard  before,  ne'er  to  be  heard  again  ! 
Earth  hears  aghast,  and  to  its  centre  quakes. 
And  even  heaven  to  its  foundation  shakes ; 
While  speechless  angels  tremble  in  amaze. 
And  on  the  Father  fix  their  steadfast  gaze. 
Creation  shrieks ;  chaos  takes  up  the  cry. 
And  endless  heights  and  endless  depths  reply ; 
Rocks  rend,  and  mountains  bow  in  awe  and  fear— 
Tombs  biirst,  and,  lo  !  the  ghastly  dead  appear ! 

'T  is  finished;  and,  on  Calvary's  blood-stained  brow, 
Around  the  cross  the  Law  and  Prophets  bow  j 
The  ancient  rites,  the  Jewish  symbols  meet. 
And  offer  homage  at  the  Victim's  feet ; 
The  streams  of  blood  from  the  high  altar  pour, 
And  Jewish  altars  fall  to  rise  no  more. 
'T  is  finished ;  lo !  the  Lamb  of  God  is  slain ! 
The  Temple's  veil  is  rudely  rent  in  twain ; 
The  glory  from  the  Cherubim  now  Hies, 

m.>i  xT«i„  rss i„  _.  _^  L^  \     


THB  PBOMISEB. 

And  bow  the  tnee  around  one  mero/Ct 
ffi«  fnhf  ?-"'^'  "P- '''"'  '«^«™nS  brow 

Both  as  a  Victim  ami  n  P  •    A  '^*^*'  ^'^  ^^n ! 

^v>     J-ne  guilty  sinner  spare ! " 
Moui'lfr!'''"^  ^^'^^  ^"^'  *°"e"ng  to  its  base 

Its  wondrous  music  charms  the'rEoJd  ll  • 
And  more  than  all.  the  Mediator  stands  ' 

Ki„7airL"'tr'  "^''^  -'«» Ands, 
TtiZ?    \^  8"ef  or  sin  oppreet. 
To  fly  for  rufuge  to  his  lovin/brcast 
And  God,  the  Father,  gazin/on  the  si^ht 

vvhile  on  his  brow  of  majesty  serene 
Mercy  and  love  ineffable  ire^seen? 
He  can  be  just,  and  justify  the  one 

^Vho  seeks  salvation  onlyinrough  his  Son! 

TK7-''5f''!'^^  "«wj  nor  Jewish  ritaa  alone 
The  institutions  of  the  Gospel  own; 
i^or  heathen  temples  tn  thJ.  ..^^x...    ,„  . 

«"««  feoan  tneir  tott  rmg  shrines  forsaie 


83 


H 


THE  fwniim* 


The  oracles  peal  forth  one  noi3  of  dread, 
And  all  is  hushed,  the  dark  illusioa  fled. 
'T  is  finished  now ;  the  sacrifice  is  o'er  ; 
Pain  may  torment  nor  sorrow  trouble  more ; 
For  pale  and  lifeless,  bathed  in  his  own  blood, 
While  from  hia  side  pours  forth  a  mingled  flood, 
The  Son  of  God  hangs  on  the  shameful  cross, 
And  heaven  is  mourning,  earth  laments  its  loss ; 
While  hell  resounds  with  yells  of  wild  delight, 
For  flaming  eyes  gaze  on  the  dreadful  sight. 
The  Serpent  all-exulting  lifts  his  head  — 
The  Infernal  Hegions  tremblo  'neath  his  tread ; 
With  hissing  cheers  he  hails  the  awful  deed. 
The  Serpent  now  has  bruised  the  '^  woman's  Seed.'* 


PART   XI. 

When  trembling  souls  approach  death's  narrow  tide, 
How  sweet  the  thougnt,  the  Prince  of  glory  died ! 
When  the  pale  mourner  bows  his  aching  head 
On  the  cold  bosom  of  the  dierished  dead, 
And  with  a  heaving  breast  and  tearful  face 
Clasps  that  dear  form  in  one  long,  last  embrace ; 
In  trembling  tones  gasps  forth  a  last  "  adieit," 
And  the  cold  grave  hides  from  his  longing  view 
All  that  he  loved,  all  that  he  prized  below ; 
Yet,  as  he  bends  in  agony  and  woe 
With  bitter  sobs  beside  tha  dismal  tomb, 
A  ray  of  light  dispels  the  fearful  gloom ; 
A  voice  is  heard ;  in  sweet  and  soothing  strain 
It  gently  whispers,  "  Jesus  rose   /^ain ! " 

The  day  wore  on ;  the  tragedy  was  o'er ; 
AU  natwre  smki  as  brightly  as  before; 


THB  PROMISES.  ■] 

The  crowd  dispersed,  and  all  was  hushed  and  still 

Yet  bv  Z'  ""^'^  °"  *l^'*'"--y'»  blood-stained  hai. 
^et  by  the  cross  appeared  a  faithful  few, 

With  steadfast  hearts  and  with  devotion  true  • 
Who  loved  ,n  life,  and  death  might  ne'er  dWde 
Those  trusting  ones  from  their  iSideemer's  sWo 
With  mournful  tread,  and  with  a  pallid  face^ 
Sfi^  "°A^^u  '5?  e""^""  -  "■  'oquestered  plaie  • 

With  h«ar^  r'"'  ^t""  ^'^  '«  '»"'""«  <fel    ; 

r1k„u  l-    ?'^r8'"»''  »"<*  with  brow  of  gloom 

A  ?  '^r?  ""*"■ ''«'"'»  in  <Jeep  despair  and  went 
And  sobbed  aloud  where  their  RcdeLer  Ir*" 
O  woman     thine  a  high  and  nobler  fate      '^ 
Ihan  .0  rule  nations  or  to  guide  the  state ; 
For  thine  the  mission,  in  t&s  vale  of  woe, 

lo  clmg  still  closer  to  the  loved  one's  side  _ 
To  cheer  his  heart,  to  stay  his  rising  moan, 

ahine  the  true  heart  which,  though  it  bend  and  break 
Is  faithful  still  and  never  can  fo^ake;  "*''• 

Thine  the  bright  gift  which  angels  priz^  above - 
The  gift  of  pure  and  of  etermil  love! 

nHZTf"-^^  ~  *"  """"^  "■■WO'l  i"  Bweet  repose 
Not  one  famt  murmur  on  the  night  air  rose         '^      ' 

Save,  now  and  then,  the  low  and  muffled  triiad 

^ut  as  the  night  wore  on,  and  the  first  glow 

Ihe  air  was  tilled  with  dazzjine  be»m.  "f  i:™i., . 
-"0  giorious  forms,  arrajed  uTshiniDg  white:" 

o 


86 


THE  PROMISES. 


i| 


Burst  on  the  view  of  the  mailed  warriors  there ; 
A  cry  of  terror  rent  the  tianquil  air ; 
Earth  shook,  and  on  her  heaving  bosom  lay 
The  pallid  guards  in  horror  and  dismay. 

The  live-long  night  sorrow  has  banished  sleep 
From  the  drear  home  where  faithful  mourners  weep ; 
And  as  the  first  faint  beams  of  morn  arise, 
They  seek  the  place  where  their  Redeemer  lies. 
Nearer  they  come — 0,  what  a  scene  appears! 
Terror  now  stays  the  fastly  falling  tears ; 
With  fear  and  awe  their  heaving  bosoms  beat ; 
The  rumbling  earth  ia  trembling  'neath  their  feet ! 
From  the  dark  tomb  the  heavy  stone  is  rolled, 
And  by  that  tomb  a  heavenly  form  behold ! 
Bright  beams  of  glory  cluster  round  his  brow, 
And  at  his  feet  the  trembling  mourners  bow. 
But,  hark !  a  voice  breaks  on  the  startled  ear, 
A  gentle  voice  assuages  ev'ry  fear : 
•'  Be  not  afraid,"  the  smiling  angel  cried ; 
"  Ye  seek  your  Lord  — ye  seek  the  Crucified. 
He  is  not  here ;  he  's  left  this  scene  of  gloom  ; 
He  is  not  here ;  behold  his  vacant  tomb  ! 
But  haste  ye  on,  to  sound  the  news  abroad ; 
Bid  his  disciples  hail  a  risen  God ! " 
Pallid  with  fear  his  awe-struok  listeners  heard, 
Then  turned  and  fled  obedient  at  his  word. 
With  hasty  steps,  and  with  a  throbbing  heart. 
They  sought  the  group  that  mourned  and  wept  apart, 
By  all  the  world  rejected  and  despised, 
And  torn  from  all  their  yearning  hearts  once  prized. 
Confused  and  hurried,  in  a  broken  tone, 
To  those  loved  ones  they  made  their  mission  known ; 
All  heard  in  silence,  but  the  fallinir  tears 


r.l\ 


TttK   PROMISES. 


•7 


And  only  two,  and  Ihoy  abaorbed  in  gloom 
Sought  out  their  Ma.tor'„  dark  and  dCry  tomb 
They  marked  the  plaeo  where  hi.,  dear  lovmZce  lav 
Ihon  with  »d  heart,  they  slowly  turned  away? 

la  even  Death  had  owned  their  iM„.,terV  power- 
That  he  for  whon,  their  tears  of  grief  were  poured 
The  bleeding  Lord,  whom  they  had  long  adofod       ' 

Ana  as  a  mighty  Conqueror  lived  acain. 

iheir  souls  were  shrouded  in  the  gloom  of  night  • 

But  soon  for  them  will  burst  a  glorious  light  •' 

Soon   ho  bnght  Sun  of  righteousness  will  fso' 

In  dazzhng  splendor  to  their  joyful  eves. 

And  ev'ry  doubt  and  ev'ry  fe'ar  be  o'e^r  ' 

For  they  will  hear  their  Master's  voice  once  more 

A  dluHeVr  "''"•'  ^'^^'^  ''''''''  -'^  "''"oes, 
Ai  (1  lulled  their  spirits  to  a  calm  repose  — 

Which  now  wUl  breathe  in  ev'ry  scene  of  strife. 
I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life." 

But  there  was  one,  with  true  and  lovinc.  I»earf 
Who  would  not  could  not,  from  that  tomb  St 
Well  she  remembered  the  auspicious  day       ^ 
When  Jesus  washed  her  guilty  stains  away  ; 
>V  ell  she  remembered,  when  in  anguish  wl  d. 

ltd  s'tin'thi''""?'-  ^"^  ^"^  ^^^^^'"•-'  --i^^- 

And  still  the  words  m  memory  would  live : 

liy  sins  are  many,  yet  I  will  forgive." 
Still  round  that  tomb  the  ransomed  sinner  hung, 
Still  round  that  tomb  her  yearning  heart-strini  clung  • 
For  there  she  saw  her  lifeless  Master  laid.       ^         ^' 
There  last ^ is  pale  but  smiling  face  survevcd : 
"|^g«i"  round  that  sacred  spot, 


To 


weep  for  one  who  could  not  be  forgot. 


8b 


TUK   PROMIBHB. 


Mmr,  and  nearer,  to  the  tomb  she  drew, 

The  tears  half  blinding  the  pale  mourner's  view  ; 

Then  started  back  with  an  affrighted  air,— 

Two  shining  angels  sat  in  glory  there ! 

Who  fondly  Hiniled  with  beaming  eye  and  brow, 

And  softly  whispered,  "  Wherefore  weepest  thou?" 

The  soothing  voice  assured  her  troubled  heart, 

And  kindly  bade  her  gloomy  fears  depart; 

She  murmured,  "  Here  my  Lord  and  Master  lay, 

But  they  have  borne  that  Master's  form  away." 

And  as  she  spoke,  with  sad  and  tearful  face, 

She  quickly  turned  from  the  sequestered  place. 

When,  lo !  a  manly  fprm  appeared  to  her, 

Just  as  she  left  the  lonely  sepulchre  j 

"Why  dost  thou  weep?  whom  dost  thou  seek?"   he 

cried. 
With  stn^aining  eyes  she  tremblingly  replied  : 
*'  O  !  if  thou  knowost  where  my  Master  lies, 
A  wretched  mourner's  prayer  do  not  despise  ; 
But  show  the  place;  and  love  this  arn>shall  '^ay, 
While  I  myself  will  bear  my  Lord  away  I  " 

A  heavenly  smile  the  stranger's  features  wvie. 
As  thus  she  told  her  love  and  sorrows  o'er ; 
Then  in  a  low  and  a  familiar  tone. 
Sweet  as  of  yore,  thrilling  as  music's  own, 
He  whispered,  «•  Mary !  "—Wherefore  does  she  start  ? 
\V  hy  bounds  so  high  that  true  and  yearning  heart  ? 
What  means  the  change  from  woe  and  dark  despair? 
What  means  that  glowing  cheek,  that  joyful  air  ?  — 

*A    J  ??f  •',"  *^^®  °"®^'  ^^^^®  echoing  vales  repeat. 
And  tails  before  a  risen  Saviour's  feet. 
Her  beaming  eyes  are  fixed  upon  her  Lord ! 
O,  what  a  great,  O,  what  a  rich  reward 
Fot  all  her  love,  her  constancy  and  care  !  * 
Tor  she  buuoids  her  Vmug  Saviour  there.' 


What;  guiKy  sinnpi-.  (I,  .  '    '  ''""^""•g  name ! 
What !  that  lone  hanVb    """' ''"«  "I"™ ' 
Despised  !nd l^r  ^  bf  ^r*""  ""''  '""'^  Wrth. 
Who  '„.id  distX  i''^.  'if  r?'  °"^«  »'■  «««k. 

7%  brethren  oTtheiLf  i""  '"'^  '"'^«  t">d  - 
"Got«lln,vbrPtl,lr^[''   ■>'.^''""    God?)  — 

>vii.  to  h.fet'-f4-j;^wd_^^^^^ 

Andr3,ll7ftfe'^'"«''«^' 
"  Our  Saviour  li  i  ,»!;•'  ''^u'  '"^'"S"  'Pread  •• 

Triumphant  o'er  the  Zk""'"'"'"^''''''  '''»  <■»«»  •■ 
Yo8,  Jesus  livel .  tho  "     ""  f'"''""''  ""^  '■ " 
Destroyed  the  'tiU  „f  ,""'.1"'" "/'""''^    '  Seed" 
And,  ransomed  Seri„'?''';  T^T  '""^<""^- 
Which  well  be/poke  ;h"  i     •    ''?'''^''  '«""•• 
Thy  guilty  souTreS  mittn"""  '  ''°"^""''  P'"'«'. 
There«.rUnonhrd'reru:d"r' 


To  rescue  tkfJLt  ufi^Zlt  ^^r^' 

ortfe^h^fe^rror-^^^^^ 

Will  he  tJZ,u'  *t"'J"  i"  '-^verence  fall . 

^vthat.m;|oU'K7;at:', 


MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


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163 

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2.2 

IS. 

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1.6 

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1653   East   Main   Street 
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90 


THE   PROMISES. 


I 


t 


And  will  he  plead  before  bis  Father's  throne, 
And  plead  in  vain  for  what  he  died  alone  ? 
Will  God  the  Father  frown  upon  his  Son, 
Who  gave  his  life,  that  his  will  might  be  done? 
Has  he  forgotten  Calvary's  sacred  brow, 
Ihe  cross,  the  tomb,  the  lonely  garden  now  ? 
Ah  .  those  pierced  hands  and  feet,  that  bleeding  side 
May  well  remmd  him  that  the  Saviour  died        ^        ' 
Tan  l!I  r  *hff  wounds  thy  gracious  God  can  see, 
Lan  he  forget  that  they  were  made  for  thee  ? 
^0,  sinner,  God  cannot  thy  prayer  refuse, 
Although- thy  sins  and  conscience  may  accuse' 
FnrTn'       ?'  ^o^bts-.  begone,  then,  guilty  f;ars  !    • 
For  thou  art  safe,  so  long  as  Christ  appears 
Thine  advocate  and  friend ;  so  long  as  thou 
Before  the  throne  with  trusting  heart  wilt  bow, 
ihy  God  will  save  thee  for  his  own  name's  sake, 
JVor  earth  nor  hell  thy  conadence  shall  shake. 

The  day  that  with  such  wondrous  sights  arose 
The  glorious  day,  was  drawing  to  its  cfose,  ' 

When  two  disciples,  with  dejected  mien. 
With  gloomy  heart  and  thoughtful  step,  were  seen 
Sadly  conversing,  while  the  gentle  breL, 
riiat  softly  whispered  through  the  rustling  trees 
I3^Imy  with  incense,  bore  upon  its  win^s  ' 

Ihe  sad  account  of  strange  and  foarfuf things 
Mingled  with  sighs  and  .with  their  Master's1i;me 
And  even  tears  that  yearning  love  would  cla?m     ' 
While  thus  perplexed  with  many  a  hope  and  fear 
A  stranger,  clad  in  coarse  array,  drew  near  ' 

With  smiling  face  and  with  a  fWendlJair     ' 
He  joined  the  lone  and  melancholy  pair : 
He  marked  the  tearful  eye,  the  drooping  head, - 
Why  thus  so  sad  ?  »  the  pitying  stranger  said 


.prv 


side, 


THE   PROMISES. 


aSou'nltt:,^;^::  flif'n  f  •''"^^^  ■'"re  7 
What  dreadful  sighl  b7v„  i  .  f'' '"^"'^  witk  fear? 

Hast  thou  not  heafd  of  Chri^f  fh  ^T  ^''"  ^-^  ? 
The  mighty  Pronhpf  t»,  '  *''®  Nazarene, 

From  som?  who  "oul   ,h  '"  'f'"^'  ^^"^ 

What  all  the  nroDh^,!?  T'-J"  "<"  ™c«Ve 

And  mWZunl  T"^'  "'"^  «f  '^03, 
DM  no   the    ,.'h'!,V"^™«"S '■«''«•' 

And  hailed  a  a  v tt  o?"'' f"?""  '"^  "'■">. 
That  rose  o'er  JJp  W„  ""/"'  '="'1'.  - 

Its  beams  around   he  T'  •"'^  >"'8''"^  ^h^^ 
Proclaim  the  advelt  of  2'"!  ' -'^"''^  '"=»d.  - 
Of  Judah's  linerthat  i    ^  ""°"'  '"='■'• 
And  yet  the  serpent  -i°?^  "'""S^-  ">-«  ? 


91 


roQ 


»»TT      »«- 


sftiS 


hng  years  befc 


«pon  a  deadly  shore 


ore. 


m 


THE  PROMISES. 


Was  but  an  emblem  of  that  royal  Seed 
In  whom  the  nations  would  be  blest  indeed, 
^or,  as  the  brazen  serpent,  reared  on  hi^rh 
Healed  those  who  raised  a  supplicating  eye, 
bo  Christ  was  doomed  to  hang  upon  the  cross, 
lo  heal  the  dying  and  to  save  the  lost. 
Could  man,  who  long  upon  his  laws  had  trod 

Appease  the  ire  of  an  oflFended  God  ? 

>V  as  not  the  curse,  framed  by  Jehovah's  breath, 

±iternal  woe  and  everlasting  death "? 

O,  guilty  man  !  'mid  depths  of  dark  despair. 

The  Son  of  God  beheld  thee,  hopeless,  there 

He  saw  thee  on  the  brink  of  ruin  stand. 

Ihe  rod  of  justice  in  his  Father's  hand, 

And  cried  with  melting  heart,  as  thus  he  saw  : 

'1  will  go.  Father,  to  fulfil  thy  law ; 

Thy  curse  is  resting  on  the  sinner's  head, 

^ut  1  will  suffer  in  the  sinner's  stead  ; 

Ut  me  take  justice,  but  the  sinner  spare  ' ' 

And  while  he  raised  the  supplicating  prayer, 

^BeS  ^'''''"''  ^T^^'^^^'  the  wondrous  tidings  ran : 
*  Behold  a  ransom  for  degraded  man  !  ^ 

Ihe  bon  of  God  a  lost  race  will  redeem  ' ' 
Prophets  caught  up  the  great,  the  inspiring  theme. 
With  hallowed  hps  and  with  a  searching  eye 

From  David's  house  a  mighty  heir  shall  springs 
U,  Zion,  hail  thy  Saviour  and  thy  King  " 
They  looked  away  through  many  a  rolling  year, 
They  saw    he  long  expected  Christ  appear  : 
Ihey  saw  him  wander  as  a  man  of  grief 
Bringing  to  other  souls  a  sweet  relief  •    ' 
Until  at  last  they  marked  a  crimson  flood, 
O  erflowmg  with  the  dy.ng  Saviour's  blood  ! 
"Upon  the  altar  rudely  raised  on  high 
They  saw  the  sinless  with  the  sinner  dip  • 


''HE  PBOMISJBS. 

'£hen  law  the  tomb  hi,  wonZ"  '  '""•"^  '"'«  ^<^^  '• 

He  marked  le  blood  fh'  '""''  '"*'°'^' 
And  as  the  Kurt  las 'J'^""^'  *«  '"'^^ 

The  debt  was  cancelled       "T"'^'^  ^'"'^ 

The  great  Redeeme'^leidtd  2  ^V^^^^^  '■ 
And  yet  think  v^  t\,/;  P  "'^  '"'eath  : 

Could  bind  hWlontV!^  .""""^.^^  »« ^h 

His  utmost  strength!- forlZ^     T1 '''"  P^er, 

For  the  cold  Kinff  nf  J        ^^\  *  '»'"'  hour 

Wassnre,,se^i:pJ-^^^^^^ 

/awned,  afd  Ch^Sl^.L 
m  rose  triumphant  from  i 


Could 
The  gh 
It  wid( 
The  Vi 


irom  the  dead  1 " 

Their  bosoms  hfavittihT  ^'^""S  «/««> 
—  «:  the  village  spires  bursil,;  i'eT^V, 


94 


THE  PnOMBES. 


Ue  stranger'8  voice  had  thrilled  each  raptured  heart  • 
They  could  no   sec  the  stranger's  form  depar  .  ' 

And,. pointing  to  the  burning  orb  of  day 
Now  hasting  swiftly  on  his  do.vnward™y,         . 

TT     ^\uf  "!"'•  "■"■  "go'l  him  thus  in  vain 
Upon  the  board  the  frugal  meal  was  set 

Around  the  board  the  ifttle  group  h  d  Lt ; 

The  smiling  stranger,  with  a  wcll-k  lown  ai; 

Raised  h.s  dark  eyes,  and  blessed  the  pS  there 

His  two  compamons,  who  with  eager  gaz» 

Had  watched  him  lon»,  now  start^H  !n  „t, 
With  li„„*;„    1,      .     °  startea  m  amaze ; 

With  beating  hearts  sprang  forward  from  their  seat 

For  •'  rr/'''"''''^'^  '''  '^''"  Redeemer's  feet  •' 
For  m  that  voice  and  in  that  beaming  brow       ' 

.hey  recognized  their  risen  Saviour  now? 

B^/hf?!^"  "''/P  ''™  ■"  ^  ^""^  embrace, 
But  he  had  turned,  and  quickly  left  the  place. 

An^^fin^f-fJ^^'  *?'  """PPy  pair  delay, 
And,  fil  ed  with  joy,  they  hastened  on  their  wav  • 
They  might  not  rest  until  the  faithful  few-     ^' 
i^eir  dear  companions  —  the  blest  tidings  knew 
With  hurried  steps  they  sought  the  loneCreal" 
t  ttT  :^  th '■"  ^'  ^^'''  -»™un[r  ^weet, 

TdllreLI   r  jj^s"  nf  J^t*^^^  -^f  °'^-  '-"- 
Th^  Joined  the  girprl^t  ea^^P-.-^^-. 

Hastened  to  welcome  the  approaching  pair        ■ 
While  hope  and  fear  alternate  filled  fach  b;art      " 

^0  ZItlTP'  '".'  *''f'"^"'  would  stfr  * 
U,  aie  the  tidings  true?- no,  no,  'tis  vain  ' 
It  cannot  be  our  Master  lives  again ;  " 

Not  ti    we  gaze  upon  his  lovely  face, 
Not  till  our  eyes  the  cruel  nail-prints  trace, 


laa  MOMisBs. 

fil'l  we  Telieve'?" '■'  \T^  ^'""■»  our  own, 
f'-'^n  in  their  mids7,l5  '^^^^  '"  tremb  W  tODP 
I»  filence  gazed    nSro'"  <^  ^"^''rene  f  *°'"'' 
But,  ashe  marked  tL„-        °"  ">«  ^^eDe; 
^'"fned  on  him  „t  r^orfr*"'"'-^''  ^^^^ 
^nd  saw  them  stand  r,?   ."^  '"''P^e. 

H«  -ftl/  whisptd  ■.?&%':??'"/•  •^'"^  ''-"•ayed 
-inen  raised  his  honl  .f J^  ^^^  afraid  l"  ^  * 
^- pointed  oS:r:t:-:;H.^ 

Their  beami^;  j:t  fil  d"  ^ST-?  P'-^, 

And  „  "ver  w  th  rh"'  ""'^  "''^"^^^'i  »ow  • 

*^or  never  had  their  Masterr  "^  '"f  '""S^e  ; 
Sounded  so  sweet  as  whe!  ,1    '• '  ■''"'"'« 
He  gathered  roui  -1  hL  th'»f .?  °'""''"  »'«. 
To  give  his  blessing  a„^  "">'  devoted  band, 
"Go  ye.  and  teaelf al?  1  r    "'■  """""""'I •' 
The  Jew  and  Greek  /hf^"",'  '°  "'^  ""me- 
^"t  first  proelaS  a  Saviot"^  ^^  '''''  "">  «"»«; 
Wlio  thirsted  for  hk  hu7     1°"^  '"  ""ose  ' 

That  they,  behe^viJ^  th  olh  V  T^'f  ""''  -oe«. 
And  know  their  risf n  S^v?^      '^  ''''ath  may  live 
i  e  shall  declare  Vo  i     .•""''  "an  forgive  ' 

And  bid  al  nXS'lf'rr''*^^^  '^^^ 
And  though  ye  meet  Ivi.    ""•"'""'  ^ee  ; 

And  tnbuitir„r  yorjorSh'"'  ""''  '^-. 
Though  persecution.  „,;J°f?  ?e''e.  - 


T^o«gh;z:„Vo;cM?^^^^^^ 

ShaU  call  for  blood,' a^dZrtllT'l' . 


bo  poured, 


90 


TOE  PBOMISEa. 


Yet  know  that  I,  your  Saviour  and  your  friend, 
Will  bo  with  you  till  life  itself  shall  end  j 
And  with  all  those  who  boldly  shall  proclaim 
To  a  lost  world  salvation  through  ray  name, 
In  every  land,  in  every  age,  and  clime, 
Till  the  last  trump  shall  sound  the  knell  of  time." 

Now  lift  your  heads,  ye  everlasting  g'ates ! 
The  King  of  Glory  for  an  entrance  waits! 
lie 's  burst  the  bands  of  death  and  of  the  tomb  • 
Lift  up  your  heads,  and  give  the  Conqueror  room ' 
liejoice,  ye  angels,  worship  and  adore. 
And  welcome  back  the  Son  of  God  once  more  ' 
Tune  all  your  harps,  in  joyful  numbers  raise 
A  song  of  love,  thanksgiving,  and  of  praise  ! 
Throw  down  your  crowns  at  Prince  Immanuel's  feet 
VVhile  heaven  and  earth  the  glad  acclaim  repeat. 
"Worthy  the  Lamb !  worthy  the  Lamb  once  slain ! 
Worthy  the  Lamb  that  died,  yet  lives  again  I" 

The  humble  followers  of  the  Nazarene 
In  silent  awe  gazed  on  the  wondroys  scene ; 
Beheld  their  Lord  in  power  and  glory  rise 
Up  the  bright  pathway  of  the  parting  skies; 
And  while  they  strove  with  piercing  eyes  in  vain 
lo  catch  one  glimpse  of  that  dear  form  again. 
Two  angels  left  the  bright  and  heavenly  shore 
And  messages  of  joy  and  love  they  bore. 
O,  glorious  message  to  that  faithful  band, 
VVho  on  the  mountain's  top  bewildered  stand  ' 
U,  glorious  sound  to  every  ransomed  soul, 
l^rom  sea  to  sea,  from  spreading  pole  to  pole ' 
In  f very  age,  0,  tell  the  tidings  o'er  — 
"That  very  Jesus  shall  return  once  more ' " 
Hark !  angel  voices  rend  the  vaulted  sky, 
In  thrilling  tones  those  shining  angels  cry 


I'UE   WtOMlSES. 

The  time  will  come  wliPn  I  ""^^^^  ^°"^e ! 


te;:^if*=*"* '■■'■■■ 

your  watchword    "r  ^hf   il™ .^T'^^ '" 
your  signal,  "ftee  L  vL-'"l"'^''""<=^'  ""n! " 
And  your  alarm   0^^  131"  -^"""^^  ">»  ^^mb !  •> 
"Judgment  to  corae       „,'""';"«  f"". 
While^'er  your  head7tho  h^'/f  ^"^  ^"^  ^°«  •'  " 
And  the  loud  trumpet  p    Is  1 1  "l"'',''  ''^'"'^'  "<""«. 
Kush  bravelv  forwor!l  P  "JlJ  ^  ,'"''"''"''  "otes, 

No  common  prize  vour  SI  .^"  '"'"''^'^  '''■''  " 
On,  and  still  ^  '  S  fi     ''''''/'''"•'^  ^h""  win. 
Your  glorious  P-'nT-        "'f"**  "'•■""'j'  troad, 

"  Go,  sound  the  Gospet  trul  •  ""'"""""^  = 
A|=d  when  ye  faint  a^d  feV"  ^^fj  '-^  •' " 

Pear  not ,  your  jird ','°.  "a? '^"'  ^-"^  S^'^^^    " 

tt^:.^Str"----^^^^ 

9  -  ---o"j   - 


98 


THIS   I-KOMISES. 


Before  his  throne  ye  shall  exulting  stand  ; 

Thet'v  1  ^'r"'^  ^K^''""''  WmanuePs  hand; 
The  royal  diadem  your  brows  shall  wear  ; 

Ihroncs  shall  await  you,  and  dominion  there 


PART    XIII. 

When  the  swift  wheels  of  time  have  ceased  to  run 
When  dr<  id  eternity  shall  be  begun,  ' 

When  the  long,  dreary  night  shall  pass  away, 

inen  ye,  who,  turning  from  earth's  cares  and  strife 
Have  listened  to  the  words  of  endless  Hfe        '     ^'' 
Shall  quickly  rise  on  love's  triumphant  wing, 
And  hail  with  joy  your  Saviour  and  your  Kiig. 

The  Prince  of  Darkness,  from  his  station  hurled 
Now  swayed  his  sceptre  in  a  guilty  world;  ' 

±rom  his  exalted  seat  he  basely  fell 
And  reigned  in  triumph  ov«r  earth  'and  hell 
But,  hark  !  from  Eden's  bowers,  so  bright  and  fair 
Where  trembling  stand  the  first-created  paL 
A  voice  IS  heard,  loud  as  the  thunder's  roar;' 
It  shakes  the  new-born  earth  from  shore  to   here  • 
Jehovah  speaks,  and,  wrapped  in  fear  and  gloom  ' 
Angels  bend  low  to  hear  man's  awful  doom^        ' 
But,  hark !  once  more  that  deep-toned  voice  is  heard  • 
The  lowest  depths  reecho  every  word ;  '^ ' 

The  faHen  hosts  tremble  with  awe  and  dread  : 

From  ZZ    "  ^"f  '^'"  ^^"^^^  '^'  S^^'Pent's  head." 

From  Eden's  garden  one  loud  anthem  flows ; 

Hni       fi  "f  i'''^''  ^"  '^''y  ^S«  -«d  time 
Have  swelled  the  notes  so  lofty  and  sublime : 


^  'Ju-- 


Have  raised  the  ery  ..  v'tf  •>','"«'  ''"Ptu.e  /red 

The  sun,  eclipsed  bv  H         °'''''^°  ■'O"''  ? 

And  all  creation    rcml'^?"'  ""■'''  ""ill  fade 
The  Lord  will  ^oallTlo^-  ''""^  '''■"""yed  ' 

««  breath  will  kh  die  a  e'f"'^^  "'"' '»  ™. 
•Before  h  s  fap^  .i,„  l    ''.'^<"'suniin<r  fire  • 

"  Gather  my  peonL  f""'"^  ^''^  '^"1  Aee' 
f-f  a'^ful  vo^  ef th^:'"  "«.  '-<[  and  sea  .■  - 
4nd  storms  of  fire  shall  !      '"«  """"^^-^  roar 
f '11  pierce  the  !ow7,f         ""^  "«'  ^road  ,  ,rt[' 
^"d  guilty  man  re!e  ve'r^^"'  ?'""">  "-"-b. 
0.  dreadful  doom'  1,, '"  ??*'  ^oom. 
<^.  horrid  portion  r  ."."^""rable  fate  ! 

^"l  hushed  at  Ia7t  bv  ttY'^i  "^^  «''''"  «well 

T'"^  >«  our  God,  we  -^  Vi^  J7f  "V-""* 

'Waited  for  him  lone '  " 

And  Zioa  m  h"  T^'  *''«  «arth  disc'    .  ^      ,  • 

l'}^  W's  remove'tte^'  ''^^'^  "s''"  ■  "■"' 

While  kings  shll'l  kl    f  J  "lountains  fall 

—       «.  -    - 


09 


o'er, 


100 


Tllfi   PIlOMISEid. 


O,  dreadful  hour!  when  h(po  shall  breathe  "fare* 

well," 
And  woe  nnd  anguish  sound  her  funeral  knell ! 

•♦*  Comfort  my  people,"  saith  the  mMity  God 
"And  sound,  O,  sound  the  glorious  news  abroad ! 
Iheir  sins  are  pardoned,  and  their  warfare  o'er  • 
borrow  and  sighing  shall  be  theirs  no  more  ;      ' 
1  he  prize  is  won,  their  griefs  and  toils  are  past : 
Ihe  year  of  recompense  has  come  at  last, 
btrengthen  the  feeble,  soothe  the  wounded  heart  •• 
iJid  every  fear  and  every  doubt  depart ; 
bay  to  the  trembling  soul,  be  of  good  cheer, 
Your  God  in  power  and  glory  will  appear ;' 
1  our  God  will  come  to  bless  you,  and  to  save 
And  to  redeem  you  from  the  icy  grave."  ' 

The  Lord  will  come ;  in  that  tremendous  day 
When  earth  shall  reel,  and  heaven  shall  pass  away; 
When  storms  shall  rage  and  swelling  seas  shall  roar: 
When  lofty  cities  fall  to  rise  no  more  • 
Wh(3n  crumbling  thrones,  from  their  foundations  hurled, 
bhall  feed  the  flames  that  wrap  a  burning  world  • 
When  crowns  shall  melt,  and  kingly  brows  grow  pale; 
Then,  then  will  burst  one  wild,  one  awful  wail ! 
Princes  and  tyrants  will  take  up  the  cry, , 
>Vhile  high  and  low,  and  rich  and  poor,  reply. 

When  the  blest  Sun  of  righteousness  shall  rise 
lo  set  no  more,  within  the  eastern  skies. 
Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  jewels  bright 
bhall  glisten  in  the  beams  of  morning  lightf 
Collected  from  the  dark,  unfathomed  deep. 
Which  never  more  such  precious  gems  shall  keep; 

*rom  Christian  countries  and  from  heathen  lands; 


^'n^oreltr^^'^ '-reave. 

Kesplendelit  thev  will      •        ^''^^  '^'^^'"'^  g^ave  ; 

'   HaKe%K.,!^,^„*°'-'J  'o.-n-s  estate. 

J.W  felt  the  pa-::^";c ::;!;:;,"'  ^r-'  ""O''^"'. 

Above  tl.0  t«i„b  where  a  h^L    .   '  "'"'  """P' 

He' :iit',^.X\r  f^-^  "■■»  ^"'^  "-0. 

When  robeJ  in  r        !'""  '■"''"'  «e«'e. 
'Mid  fi  ™  a nd  .eC::''  ""=  ^T^  ^"^"one. 
With  heaven's  uZi    "l'''  "'^'"■"  "fe""" 

When  tht'it  t ."  ;'trd  'rT "'  '"•» '™'-"  -• 

And  ever,  raee  befeffiltf  ar::.'"  ^''^' 

f^^:i^^^^^  --1  do.o 

from  tho  blosc  hour  when  an;^!  „  ^o^iueror  home; 

attnSL'^V^f?*"" 
With  kindling  eyTZdh,    ^"T^""- 
Waving  the  «Cda"d  dyed  Tn'll  ^T  T'  »««». 
O'er  hill  and  nlain^l     j-    ^^°°^  ^"'^  'eara 
Keviled  and  hated '^^h?''l"«  ™'"""=«'«- 
They  saw  the  darkeni  1  hiM    "'""''  '»"'' 

-:;:aT.^Zei?r- 

When  moekti  fl  ^'"^  *^T°"'«  "''me.     ' 

A«derW  aSfr,Cit'°  Valvar,',  brow, 

"u.     Where  is  jour  boasting  ^r.lo„ 


101 


102 


THE   PROMISES. 


They  raised  the  cry,  "  The  cross,  the   blood-stained 

croHs, 
For  which  we  count  all  other  things  as  loss." 

Where  is  your  hope  ?  "  _  the  fearless  band  replied, 
"Our  hope  IS  in  the  risen  Crucified  "  ^ 

U,  glorious  hope !  when  racked  with  woe  and  pain, 
When  doomed  the  cup  of  misery  to  drain. 
When  scorned  and  hated  by  the  heartless  crowd, 
When  persecuted  by  the  great  and  proud, 

C^^r'hli''  *^/,^°^^«°«^^  dungeon  dark  and  drear, 

Uur  blessed  hope  disperses  every  fear  ; 

With  rapturous  joy  the  o'ercharged  bosom  swells, 

And  songs  of  praise  arise  from  noisome  cells. 

And  though  we  slumber  in  the  icy  tomb 

Our  gloriour.  hope  dispels  the  frightml  gloom  ; 

fh  11  K-T  .^'""'f^^'  descending  from  the%kies, 

Shall  bid  the  pale  and  silent  dead  arise : 

The  dead  will  hear,  and  on  the  wings  of  love 

Will  quickly  mount  a  flaming  world  above, 

While  0  er  the  raging  elements  will  ring 

The  blissful  cry,  -  0,  death  !  where  is  thy  sting?" 

And  one,  in  lonely  exile  doomed  to  roam. 
Far  from  his  country,  without  friends  or  home,  - 
One  who  had  shared  hi«  Master's  wants  and  woes 
One  who  had  boldly  faced  his  Master's  foes,-     ' 
fetood  all  alone  upon  the  rocky  shore. 
No  sound  was  heard,  save  the  white  billows'  roar  • 
No  object  met  the  lonely  exile's  e  ' 

Save  the  dark  sea,  and  the  extended  sky  : 
But  while  he  stood  with  sad  and  thoughtful  air, 
The  cheerless  desert  bloomed  around  him  there 
^at  barren  isle,  where  wild  the  waves  were  driven     • 
Was  deshned  to  become  the  gate  of  heaven ;  ' 

And  he  the  wanderer  for  his  Master's  sake, 
Whose  love  nor  shame  nor  poverty  might  shake 


R. 


THK    I'ROMI.SKS. 

Was  destined  dread  an.li''^  """■'"'  ^'6°'^.- 
Tl.at  ne'er  befot^t.;"^"^';  ^"""^  '»  ''«">• 
But  'mid  the  seenerA.f.^y  """■'"'  ear: 
Amid  the  .ourttaf  fii'leTh-'^"  '^^f"'"'  Sne,- 
He  saw  his  Master- salth'r'"?  ""^^e,-' 
He  heafd  his  voiee-  ^,1  I  '"''  ""'^  «'»'° ! 
And  as  ho  eried,  in  loud  aL  "^,7"  ^"''^  Wn. 
''^0'-  I  come  quictiv  fn        •       ''"g  tone, 

The  loved  discip"  IhVr'^^  "'"<=  <"^°  " 
And  with  a  vearnlrj       '"'""""g  eye, 

Across  the  main,  the  ioWnl  i?  "«  '"^'^  ^d  true, 
It  reached  the  church  Tffl   .  ,  °  "'''"J 

It  woke  an  answerJetSt  e  "l^"^^'    '"''^ ' 
;And  from  each  Jin  ^tl-       ""*  ^''east; 

The  prayer,  "  0,  imHu'r^r-''  ''"'^°^'^> 

ome,  our  8av,our,  and  our  Lord  !'• 

T^C^^-SdThe  eSS"  T-  "■«  S'-tu 

Conldst  thou  the  homini '"'?,"  *««  ««.  - 
The  home  eternal  aUnrf  ""^iT  «'<»•?  »ee, 
This  dreary  earth  »i  S"^'^  ^"'^  thee,—' 
With  all  it^s  caret'  k   ^  •*  ' '''  P''""^  ""d  woes, 

Ceuld  never  S'^  ralall'  'T' 
Could  never  fill  fi,T.  /      •      ^  laJImg  tear. 

^'easure  ^^i&'^^lC}^^  fear ; 
But  never  woo  thee  to  he   „i?f?  "'''"'=  ^""^Ms, 
Earthly  ambition  lift ;tl^'i"-»lr'^ 
-.u=veru,ere  record  thy  hum"ble7ame; 


103 


104 


TUK    PKOMISES. 


The  storm  might  rage,  the  whitening  billows  roar 
But  naught  could  daunt  the  steadfJt  pilgrim  m»e. 

A  homeless  stranger  in  a  foreign  clime, 
With  fearless  heart  and  with  a  faith  sublime. 
Bowed  his  aged  head  upon  his  feeble  breast 
And  stretched  his  limbs  in  calm  and  peaceful  rest 
•'  The  Father  of  the  Faithful  "  had  rSed  * 

I  ears  rolled  away ;  his  eye  with  age  grew  dim  • 
That  promise  never  was  fUmiled  to  him  ' 

A  stranger,  of  the  world  a  chosen  heir,' 
And  yet  without  a  home  or  dwelling  there 
He  struggled  on  'mid  scenes  of  grief  and  gloom 

Th^fX  "k  '"''  ^"'''"  "  ^'^"''g-^''^  tomb.^        ' 
Ihe  gentle  breezes  sweep  around  his  grave. 

The  storms  arise,  and  howling  tempests  ra  -e  : 

The  thunders  roar,  the  vivid  lightnings  glare 

The  Glnin"r ^r**  y^"«  ^'  '«^l«mbifd  Ze. 
Ihe  Gentile  treads  upon  his  lifeless  clay. 

And  his  descendants- where,  O  !  where  are  thev? 

Like  him  they  wandered;  but.  their  wander  ngscJer 

WhHe  o'erth'e';?  ""'*^"f  "f '™  -^-^  »"-  "»"  T' 
w  hue  0  er  the  '  promised  land  "  the  heathen  reicn 

When  will  the  chosen  heirs  their  right  obtSn?  ^ 

O,  gliastly  Death  !  exulting  o'er  thy  prev 

^r'£-"u"S  f  '^y  '""""<"''  to  obey  ;^  ^    ^' 
The  high  and  low  of  every  age  and  land 

TCbtT      ""''"'^r"  '»  "'^  ^'"''^  command; 
Thou  hast  usurped  the  mighty  monarch's  throne 
And  laid  him  low,  — a  king  of  dust  alone" 
Thou  hast  bereft  the  humb^  peasan  's  hea/th, 
And  torn  away  all  that  b,  prized  on  eartn ;    ' 

And  tuou  nast  broken  many  a  bleeding  heart ; 


THE    PROMISES. 


Ihe  mighty  Lion  sprung  from  Judah's  raoP 
Ine  curse  renovpo  nr.  of„-  i        ,' •*"*^  ■^'^ir. 

A «...  ;.;t-':'S  rifi"  ""■ 

A  soncr  nf  i.L  :f '^^''  ^*.*"»e<i  to  love  and  nrajJ 
-o  >-*  -uu  .xiunKsgivmg  they  will  raise    ~" 


100 


106 


THE   rR0MISE3. 


Unto  the  Lamb  who  died  long  years  before, 
VV  ho  lives  and  reigns  for  ever,  evermore. 

From  lip  to  hp,  from  bounding  soul  to  soul, 
Redeeming  ove  !  »  shall  in  glad  accents  rol  ; 
Redeeming  ove  !  "  shall  rend  the  vaulted  sky, 
Redeeming  ove  !  »  shall  echoing  spheres  reply. 
Jesus  shall  reign  ;  from  spreadingVne  to  zone  ^ 
He  shall  set  up  his  everlasting  throne. 
The  "promised  Seed,"  and  David's  glorious  Heir 
The  eternal  crown  of  royalty  shall  wear  :  ' 

Ihe  tears  of  sorrow  never  more  shall  fall  : 
The  King,  of  kings  the  mighty  Lord  of  all, 
W  th  his  own  ha_  1  shall  wipe  away  each  tear, 
Wi  h  his  own  voice  shall  calm  each  rising  fea;; 
While  grief  and  care  shall  bid  a  last  farfwell 
io  the  bright  scenes  where  they  no  more  may  dwell. 

There  blighting  sickness,  there  distress  and  pain 
ThP  iT^'^.^'T  '^'  ^^"^^"^^^  «»^«  again.      ^     ' 

And  hi[r.   ri'  ^'^'^  ^"  ^'^'  '^^^^  "^^^t  once  more, 
And  hail  each  other  on  a  deathless  shore, 

Never  o  mark  the  burning  tears  that  fell 

When  last  they  whispered  that  dread  word  "  farewell ' 

The  royal  City,  all  divinely  fair,  ^     * 

With  pearly  gates  and  with  majestic  air. 

With  golden  turrets  towering  ti  the  sky 

bha    echo  with  the  glad,  the  joyful  cr/ 

Of     Ghpr  glory  to  the  Lamb  who  died  ! 

Wory  and  honor  to  the  Cruciaed  !  " 

AndlT^\^''  '^^"^"^  '''''^'  ^^'  saints  shall  roam, 
And  find  in  her  an  everlasting  home  ; 

With  unveiled  eyes  the  King  of  glorv  see 

Then  tf  t  ''''''  .^^-^"^  ^^^''«  -f^^in?  ree. 
Then  shall  the  promised  heirs  their  ri  Jt  obtain  • 
As  kings  and  priests  those  ransomed  ones  shaTr'eign ; 


THE   PROMISES. 

Aroun]  rfc^r/-, -^  Gentiie  now 

Heirs  of  one  pC  e  f  „?■'"!  "'™'"=  ^'"'"  bow,  _ 
Bought  a„,  ,^,-r,;XS:^-X-e, 


107 


PART  XV. 

How  ca„f:^^otlC::;-.fjf;:  o'er, 

Hov.  canst  thou  prfzf  ts  gay  b„t  ft,?-"«  ^^  ^ 
Wten  just  before  thee  bu?{  K     .k^l'°S  'oj's  ? 
Appears  an  unknown  worid     ""  ^'^''^■'' 
^ot  such  a  world,  fleetZ  aLFJ"  ""'""''  ^-=^0  •' 
A  world  of  endless  w„r^        f,' "'""SO  as  this; 

That  thou  wilt  clina  unto^^f  .  It  '"  '^«"' 
And  sink  at  last  n  m?      .    ^"^"^  oharms. 

That  thou,    ega X^ffhr/'^'^^'^''^''  ^""^^ 
Wilt  plead  fofmerv  „  ,""->'/'""e  state, 

And,  L  a  &:  rhKr^  Tf  It /"'''^ 
Spend  a  long,  long  etS^oV^^^J'j^''"^. 

The  gentle  murmurs  of T   •  ?""''  ,"=^'>«  ^ 

The  laugh  a"     TZkUn^t^'"'''''  ''"-•<'  -• 
In  pleasure's  hails,  wXgarfnd'tt''T.f ""^"^ ^ 
XX-— ea  ...^uuiig,  tae  beautitUI  aad'fair"-  ""' 


108 


THE   P110MI3ES. 


While  radiant  smiles  illumined  every  face, 
And  music  lent  enchantment  to  the  place.' 

The  wearied  sons  of  earth  had  found  repose, 
And  aching  hearts  forgot  their  cares  and  woes  : 
Neep  balmy  sleep,  its  gentle  signet  pressed 
On  the  pale  brow,  and  soothed  the  troubled  breast. 
Ihe  lonely  wanderer  m  a  foreign  land 
l^ar  from  his  home  and  "his  own  household  band  " 
Slept  but  to  dream  of  that  delightful  spot,  ' 

His  native  home,  by  day  nor  night  forgot. 
The  wretched  captive,  with  a  bitter  si.^h 
Folded  his  arms  and  closed  his  swimming  eye. 
ihe  trembling  slave,  tormented  by  his  woes, 
blept ;    t  was  to  dream  of  cruel  stripes  and  blows 

Of  the  bright  future  with  its  golden  dreams, 

bunk  into  luxury's  arms;  in  sleep  the  same 

i^e  ightful  visions  of  the  future  came  : 

Ox)ld,  gold  their  burden -bright,  enchanting  gold 

The  price  of  souls,  of  blood  and  woe  untold^  ^     ' 

Ihe  midnight  robber,  with  a  stealthy  tread, 

Upon  his  mission  of  destruction  sped 

Ihe  weeping  mourner,  where  a  loved  one  slept. 

With  bursting  heart  her  Icnely  vigils  kept : 

She  bent  her  ear  to  catch  the  feeble  moan 

f  hat  broke  from  iips  all  pale  and  paler  grown  ; 

The  dying  sufferer  raised  his  eyes  once  more,  -1 

One  j,ainful  gasp,  and  life's  last  pang  was  o';r. 

The  victims  ot  disease,  with  heaving%reast, 

bunk  on  their  sleepless  couch,  but  not  to  rest. 

The  hours  wore  on,  and  silence  ruled  the  night  •  - 
One  moment  more,  and  0,  how  changed  the  sfht. 
The  thunders  bellow  in  the  darkened  sky,        ^     * 
Ihe  moon  grows  pale,  the  sickening  Dlanet«  a'a 


.     THE  PROMISES. 

The  earth  is  reeling  to  its  centre  now ; 

The  ral"/r"''  '^'  ^'«™'"  >»<»">ta  «,  bow 

A  vcce  ,.  mingling  with  the  awful  rTa;  ■ 

Th   l"a,/rr  "'=''  "T'-o  «hajTbTn„'„ore-" 
And  t  'fK  ""^  "■""'P'"  '^"^^  the  lurid  a°r  ' 

|£S=^^--Sn..ore 
^pnng  into  life,  and  leave  the  drearv  +nmK  . 

The  risen  dead  eZetorth^,         I  *'"?  ^""^  ^^' 
The  fi-t-croated7arrS  "  he?  ::'  ^""• 

oore^tbr„^it"rnti:ir^-<^- 

The  ^fnrmx.  ^  1      '    ,     ^®  *^^*  ^nce  outrode 

\r  A  u       9'      ^  ''^^  patriarch  aDDenr<? ' 
IJot  bowed  beneath  the  weiVht  of  rnir' 

Tr^®  unto  Christ's  is  his.     Vmnhn.  „«j      • 
-^ve  i.eard  the  signal  sound;and  aiJ;; 


109 


10 


.    ICSC 

released 


110 


THE   PROMISES. 


From  Death's  cold  bondage,  rise  to  life  once  more. 
1  rom  waving  sea  to  sea,  from  shore  to  shore, 

All  fashioned  like  the  glorious  Son  of  God ! 
Ihe  old  and  young,  the  once  deformed  and  fair; 

A   ^    ,  .  ^'*  '*"^Se  ;  now  divinely  briVht 
And  clad  m  robes  of  everlasting  white, 

InZT^  ?""'  ^"'u  •  "  ^  ^'^'^'  ^bere  is  thy  sting ? » 
In  joyful  strains  those  ransomed  beings  sing         ^ 

The  ashes  of  the  holy  martyrs  slain, 
Scattered  by  swelling  winds  o'er  hill  and  plain 

K  I'Vu'  ^'"^  ^^^  ''''  th«  raging  wave  ' 
Denied  that  boon,  a  calm  and  quiet  grave  !I 
Are  all  collected  now,  and  in  their  pface   ' 
boe  shinmg  forms  adorned  with  heavenly  grace  • 
With  shouts  of  joy,  behold,  :.ehold  the/rlse' 
They  bend  their  way  toward  the  flaming  kies  • 
For  in  mid  heaven,  'mid  floods  of  dazzlhig  if'ht 
The  Son  of  man  appears  ;  0,  joyful  sight^    °    ' 
io  those  who  long  in  exile  and  oppressed 
Have  sighed  for  home,  for  their  eternal  rest ! 

Who  /  vu^  T^^'^  J°  ^""^'y  ransomed  one, 
Who  faithful  to  the  last  th^  race  has  run  • 

VVho  has  renounced  the  world  with  alt  its  charms  • 
0  glorious  sight  to  them  !- the  outstretched  arms 
Of  their  eternal  King  embrace  them  round 
Lightnings  n,ay  flash  and  awful  thunders  sound  • 
Mountains  may  be  "from  their  foundations  hurled  » 
But  they  -  can  smile  upon  a  burning  world  ! ''       ' 

O,  dreadful  sight  to  those  who  never  felt 
Ihe  pardoning  love  of  Heaven  !  -  who  never  knelt 

Ine  altars  where  tho  Hnnrf «  »^v.^^  :^-5_..  i^  ^  Pi^^iu^u 


"^iiiii   rBOMlSJss. 


Upon  a  smiling  God^  ^Z7^  ""'''•  ^-^viour  gaze 
The  cross,  the  f hamefurd"  ""wV""'''  ''^" 

^wM.uaeirH^pT;nrfChrt:.ta-. 

Wh^o  stghUh:t*n«  'oV  «''^,''"-  "f  --ft. 
Who  but°an  houSr.  •  -''f-^  ""<'  "'"h 
Smiles  on  each  Mn  „„r  J"'"'''' '"  *•>«  danee, 
O.  what  a  change 'lii?  '"  ^^>  g'''"'"'  •' 
Distorted  brows°anrI  hTT'  ""'^  '''""t  despair 

Who  soighfto  drown  tho  *''™'"'^'' '''  ">«  ^ord ; 

ar-hf^^^^^ 

TWshrietfor.ero;    A^I^^Ktie.- 

Th?;t t  s  irv'r  ?"'"s  j^-g.  - 

The  living  s;i„tsC      •;:  -«  Vr'^f ''-^  -»g. 
The  furrowed  cheek,  are  mor«'*l^     ^""e.worn  bro#, 
The  trembling  form  l!  thaToLt  ?"  ^"?"^^'''  "»''• 
Arrayed  in  tittered  garme„?rt    '??-'^""  *°  <'»»■•. 
te^''^'  "' -i'h'rtrrtl  eTe" "  '"'"°'« 

sTriS:L?lt"-^to'passe„.by_ 
The  victims  „f  "  i  ™''^.'  ^IPremely  blest.  '^ 
-  -..^vooc,  Me  long^istressed. 


m 


112 


THE  PKOMISKS. 


Freed  from  all  grief,  from  ev'ri'  earthly  stain 
Mount  o'er  the  couch  of  suff 'ring  Z  of  pain 
Never  to  Borrow  more,  never  to  Lw        ^     ' 
The  blighting  pang,  of  sickness  or  of  woe. 
Ihe  lonely  mourner,  who  had  sighed  and  went 
And  o'er  the  cherished  dead  her  vigils  kenT^ 
Beholds  the  shrouded  form  immortf  I  rise'^  ' 
And  with  that  loved  one  socks  the  beambg  skies. 

0,  what  a  meeting !  every  saint  is  there 
And  angels  in  that  joyful  meeting  sha  e.  - 

AnTt  .V- "^  "'■T^'l-  P'"""«l>  °»nd  seers,  _ 
nt      ^\l"^'^'t  the  Son  of  God  appears  ' 
They  see  the  Lamb  who  died  on  Calvary's  brow 
To  rescue  them,  and  they  are  like  him  ^w ' 
S^/^« '"?' ,"«  te  is,  a  mighty  King, 
Ihe  Lord  of  lords ;  ana  hark  '  — -  n   L.i,  i  .1. 
"This  is  our  God,l-we.ttaited'^;r'hn  ,0'  7J1"«- 
This  IS  our  God  !  "  swells  the  triumphanrsong.^' 

0,  what  a  parting !  what  a  scene  below' 
Despair  and  horror,  agony  and  woe ; 
J^riends  part  with  friends,  who  loved  in  ,)»„=    e 

ThT  iur;''  ''7.'^^^^  P"' '»  -etn   mX."'  ''''^' 
Ihe  little  group  that  met  around  one  hearth 

ThTttv^i'^'r  f'-^f  T  ~' Wrth, 
Have  pa;fed"n!.t'ntt1ritjr«  P^'- 
Days  may  roll  on,  and  weeks,  and  months  an,!  ™ 
B„Mh^'  '°"A,'°"S  eternity  appears,  ''  ""^  ^"'"'' 

But  they  shall  meet  no  morershall  never  iraza 
Upon  each  other's  face.  Eternal  rays  ^^ 
Ut  glory  cluster  round  the  ransomed  one  • 

A  as^"tf!  ""''  *""f  T  P*^*'  ^^  labors  done. 
Witl  n.^r^K"""'"'  "^  "•""  ^«^<'Md  band, 
With  pallid  brows,  weeping  and  wailing  stand. 


TM   PROMISES. 

Awaits  them  now  »n,l  f '      I  *'''™'''  ''oe  ^ 

Soothe  their  to  :Cl°lf ,""  "^  »'"« 

'""''  ''"•'<»'o.to(hon,,i3o•e^! 
To  wt:fe.!;;,:;S',;^°-J^^     was  once  a  law, 
With  death-palo  cheek  anV.-i"",'"  '"'«' 
^'"olds  his  subject  !wh^?  ho""  "  '■""^'"g  f'^«=»st. 
^bme  brighter  than    170,  ^  ,!  T"  r'?"""'"^' 

And  he  hin,so!f  doomed  fo   the  oTof  "  «'"''' 
Iho  hauffhty  tvrmt  ™i.    l    ,     P"  "'  "oe. 

The  laws  of- (S'  7^°  """^  ^'  "■'''do 

The  bol^  of  fr  1:'  T"'""^  '''"'^^ 

And  made  his  boS  "  n"' "  ,77  «■"•«• 
He  sees  the  poor  nnn J      i  i/fetelied  slave  ; 

Afric-s  despiS'^nT      Si-^"''^"  --' 
»^nom  he  disdoin«^      "fe  "  g    aed  sons, 

Joint  heirs  wUhOhnC    f ''"'■""="  *°  ''^"' 
He  sees  them  free  M„  °[/" .?'"™"'  tl'i-one .' 
Bound  for  thet  'n^"  :  ^/J«"-ed  «'--. 

^fc  iaice,  with  none  to  save ! 

Who  would  not  face  .h7„  M.  """  ^  '"'''wn  7 
To  win  the  favor't^tt^rt'-'l'-at'^  ''°^ 
,Ands.„gthesongofMoisandthTLambJ 

Timelir.l"""<'"":™.ha«  dawned  at  last. . 

"'"Ioi~"'*'""»'^'"'y«arshavep.«ed; 


114 


THE   PROMISES. 


no  wlclf.   4e„  •  awaken  from  tho  tomb  ; 

Th    ,      >     ',"     '■*'•'''  ""^  »'>'f"lat(S  their  doom 

And  l,cef.  tho  burden  of  tho  pocf»  , o„.,  _.^' 
A  .o«  whoao  lowly  ,Iust  tho  marble  nrSud 
il»^  p<.nau   out  to  the  aJn,irl„g  erowd 

jTutT,     '?  '"^  «^"'"  of  e-'-tl'-b^.hold,  they  come  - 
JJut  i,„(  w,i„  o;m„er,  nor  with  beati..  .drum 
xVo  herald  »ou,.ds  tho  hero's  .storied  name 
No  laurel  wreaths  their  victory  nroela"  m  ' 

1  or  haughty  kings  obey  the  summons  Jread: 
And  they  to  whom  tho  nations  bowed  the  knee 
Who  swayed  their  sceptre  over  land  .nd  ««,     ' 

ranas  at  tho  judgment-bar ;  nor  sich  nor  wn.-^ 
V^scapes  that  vast  assembly;  naught  is  he Jd 
Thoughout  the  broad  creation ;  e?ory  Lhere 
S^!"?%">»  '™l«'^.  pausing  as  if  to  h^oar 

The  bnnl"     '"'"""  ''^}^'''°'  Wack  despair. 
The  books  are  opened ;  every  name  is  there 
J^ngravod  by  hand  almighty  and  div  ne        ' 
And  every  deed  and  eveVdark  des'^:' 

Another  book  is  opened ;  not  a  blot      ^ 

f  ,  it*  """"  g'o'-y  "nd  immortal  fame 
And  there  are  deeds  of  valor,  doedf  o    love 
Lightly  estoc^med  on  earth,  but  prized  aC 
Each  tear,  each  sigh,  eaeh'suppCt  ,t  pr  yor 
Each  pure  desire,  all  are  recii^ded  there     ^    ' 


» 


TUJB   PaOMI8E3. 


115 


!ome ! 


ne; 


Each  knee  is  bent,  each  hen  rt  forgotn  to  beat. 

The  n^i  -Ty   -'  ^t  J"^^^^  «^'^"'^'  "  ^V^^'II  done." 
Ihe  prize  is  theirs,  the  victr  ry  is  won. 

Thn  J\Z"  ^;  J"%''^  ^'•^«^'  ^'^^'^  ^"d  severe  : 
Those  at  the  left  their  awful  scnter,  o  hour : 

.        Depar  ,  ye  cursed !  "  -  one  tcrritic  yelJ, 
They  sink,  they  sink,  into  an  endless  hell ! 
In  chains  of  everlasting  darkness  bound, 
Ihrou^^h  nil  eternity  to  hear  no  sound 
Have  howls  of  spirits  lost,  and  horrid  erics 
U    rhe  dread  worm  that  never,  never  dies! 
Ihe  gates  are  closed,  never  io  open  more  : 
Satan  s  dominion  and  his  power  are  o'er  ' 
Chained  on  the  Kurning  lake  he  rages  there, 
His  legions  shrink  away  in  deep  despair ! 
Ihe  gates  are  closed  ;  the  monsters.  Death  and  Sin 
The  berpent's  offspring,  shut  forevei  in,  * 

Howl  round  their  prey,  which,  in  their  turn,  reply 
With  curses,  and  with  shrieks  of  agony  ^^ 

Yet  Liost  tormented  by  the  dreadful  thought, 
Pardon  was  offered  — we  received  it  not!" 

The  earth  renewed  presents  a  glorious  scene  : 
Mountains  and  valleys  of  perpetual  green ; 
Delicious  plains,  and  odorif 'reus  bowers, 
Unfading  forests,  never-dying  flowers  : 
i  ruits  that  on  fragrant  trees  immortal  grow 
stivers  that  murmur  sweetly  as  they  flow      ' 
And  gardens  decked  with  everlasting  spring. 
And  shining  warblers  on  the  tireless  wing.^ 
No  howling  tempest  breaks  the  sweet  repte. 
No  piercing  thorn  surrounds  the  blushing  ro  e, 
No  sultry  heat  parches  those  blooming  plains. 
No  night  is  known  wKnm  A.„  ^„..„.-..^.  S         ' 
•  vtuj,  iuiuvui  reigns; 


ii 


116 


^    f 


THB  PBOMISES. 


\ 


No  thunder's  roar,  no  lightning's  vivid  glare 
No  darkened  sky,  disturL  the  beauty  there 

The  royal  city,  the  divine  abode 
Uf  ransomed  men  and  their  eternal  God 
Rises  'm.d  blooming  bowers  and  lofty  tre'es 
And  waves  ,ts  banners  to  the  gentle  breeze 
Upon  as  pearly  gates  and  shining  walls 
A  flood  of  everlasting  glory  falls! 
And  tinges  with  its  own  delightful  glow  ' 
The  lovely  river  murmuring  below.  ^ 
That  river  from  the  living  fountain  springs 
And,  guided  by  the  njighty  King  of  king? 
It  wanders  through  the  saints'  celestial  h1,me 
Where,  robed  m  white,  the  ransomed  natSroam 
Through  golden  streets,  and  gardens  br^ht  and  fr" . 
And  on  Its  banks  stands  life's  unfadinglr L  ' 

AH,  a  1  ,s  bliss,  and  love,  and  glory  there  • 
Nopam  no  sickness,  no  eorrodVcare     ' 

No  hml'  "l  ''f'"^  ''"'"•'«'  "»  te"f»l  eyes, 
^0  broken  bands,  and  there  no  severed  ties  • 

Ihe  Prince  of  Peace,  the  great  Immanuel  reigns 

'ArouWeTh  "''*'  "^r^'y  "g^  ^"^  land     ^ 
Around  the  throne  a  glorious  throng  thev  stand  • 

The  crown  of  ife,the  blood-washedibTthey  wm 
^e  conqueror's  palms  of  victory  thev  bear  ' 

l^I^'f,  '^"  l"'"'  '^^y  '"'««  the  joyfureVe  • 

h^w    .1*  u^V ''"''•'  *■'»'  ^««t  assembly  crv 

Viwi;   V''?  ^T"*  *"  ^'  «^»"'"»  thus,  ^     ^' 
^  orthy  the  Lamb,  for  he  was  slain  fo^  us  '  " 

•  Glory  and  honor  to  our  God  and  King  -  " 


RELIGION  AND  CONSOLATION 


roam 
ifree; 


jns. 
wear, 


As  morning'a  earliest  beams  began 
To  light  the  homes  of  sleeping  man, 
Two  radiant  forms,  with  heavenly  air, 
With  beaming  eyes  and  waving  hair, ' 
Approached,  with  footsteps  soft  and  still 
The  summit  of  a  lofty  hill,  ' 

Which  overhung  a  lovely  glen. 
Far  from  the  busy  haunts  of  men. 

Beneath  a  proud  and  mighty  oak. 
Which  oft  had  warded  off  the  stroke 
Of  raging  storm  and  howling  blast 
Upon  its  noble  visage  cast, 
They  sat  them  down  with  twining  arms: 
And  while  a  thousand  blissful  charms 
bhone  forth  in  sweet  and  quiet  grace, 
They  gazed  into  each  other's  face. 

Sisters  they  seemed  of  kindred  heart 
And  never  formed  to  live  apart ; 
And  though  they  now  had  made  their  home 
Upon  the  earth,  where  mortals  roam, 
Yet  something  in  their  aspect  told 
That  they  were  not  of  human  mould : 
- . -rv  v^vu^ii  „ucy  uuw  were  seen  on  earth, 
iiiey  surely  were  of  heavenly  birth. 


lis 

RELIGION   AND    CONSOLATION. 

Happy  and  pure  their  souls  had  been 

Unknown  to  care,  unstained  by  sin, 
But  now  a  shadow,  dark  and  sad, 
O  erspread  their  brows  once  gay  and  dad  • 
And  shining  tears  began  to  flow  ^      ' 

As  they  gazed  on  the  scene  below. 

iiehold  that  young  and  lovely  bride  ' 
But  yester-mornn  joyful  tr  in 
I'assed  over  yonder  flowery  plain  • 

^°   1  i  ?^^  "^^^P^  i»  anguifeh  now 
Breathed  forth  the  sacred  bridal  yow 

And  phghted  heart  and  hand  to  him  ' 
Whose  ear  IS  dull,  whose  eye  is  dim  ; 

Buf  yesterday  a  happy  bride,  ' 

Sanding  by  a  loved  husband's  side; 
But  now,  of  woe  the  hapless  prey, 
bhe  mourns,  a  widow  lone  to-^ay." 

The  other  bowed  her  gentle  head. 
And  ma  mournful  whisker  said:    ' 

txo,  sister,  go,  and  cheer  her  heart- 
^d  up  each  bruised  and  aching  paVt. 
Thine  IS  the  power  to  soften  grief 
And  thine  the  power  to  bring  relief." 

And^;°°  ;u*\°"^^  ^^^^^y  I  would  fly, 
And  wipe  the  tear-drops  fro^i  her  eve  • 
Though  gladly  I  would  bring  a  rest^   ' 
.  A  bal^  unto  her  wounded  bf east?' 

To  bid  th.     ^-  P'^^^'  *^°«g^  «^i"e  the  will 
i  0  bid  the  raging  storm  be  still.  ' 

My  tender  oflSce  comes  not  ther«. 


\ 


RELIGION   AND   CONSOLATION. 

For  how  can  I  with  such  grief  cope  *> 
bhe  weeps  as  those  who  have  no  hope. 
And  well  tlTDu  knowest,  sister  dear, 
Ihy  voice  has  never  reached  her  ear 
Thou  knowest  well  that  in  her  heart  * 
Ihine  image  never  claimed  a  part; 
That  thou  wert  gazed  upon  with  scorn, 
%  that  proud  soul,  in  youth's  bright  morn : 
And  still  with  10%  pride  she  spunis 
Ihe  altars  where  thy  incense  burns. 
Ihen  how  can  I  an  entrance  win 
Where  my  sweet  sister  ne'er  has  been  ? 
t> !  how  can  Consolation  cheer. 
When  bright  Religion  comes  not  near?" 

Religion  raised  her  tearful  eye. 
And  murmured  with  a  bitter  sigh : 

"  ^'  g^^*^^^'  g^a^ly.  would  1  go, 
And  ease  her  spirit  of  its  woe  I 
But  often  have  I  crossed  her  way, 
And  bade  her  for  one  moment  stay. 
To  hear  the  doctrine  that  I  taught ; 
And  yet  she  heard,  she  heard  me  not; 
-But  with  an  air  of  scorn  and  pride. 
She  coldly  spurned  me  from  her  side ! 
iNor  me  alone,  but  with  a  look 
Of  proud  disdain  and  harsh  rebuke, 
She  spurned  the  mighty  Son  of  God  ; 
She  spurned  the  paths  where  he  had  trod  ; 
And  with  quick  footsteps  hurrying  on. 
She  bade  me  from  her  sight  begone. 
And  seek  the  old,  the  poor,  the  low. 
And  those  bowed  down  with  grief  and  woe* 
But  that  Jm-  heart  was  light  and  free         * 
And  gho  had  no  '    •      -  °  ' 


119 


J-. 


uuaire  loi  itie. 


120 


RELIOION   AND    CONSOI^TION. 


But  now  she  sheds  the  burning  tear: 
Not  even  Hope  can  linger  near  ; 
J;  or  she,  sweet  sister,  follows  tKee, 
And  thou  hast  ever  followed  me 
Where'er  thy  gentle  footsteps  stray 
Mine  own  have  always  led  the  way  : 
And  I  have  never  filled  one  place 
Which  has  not  seen  thy  smiling  face. 
Iruly  thou  canst  afford  no  balm 
Her  anguish  and  her  woe  to  calm  : 
^or  she  has  scorned  that  glorious  One, 
Our  great  Protector,  and  our  Sun. 
And  she  has  scorned  thy  sister's  aid: 
And  now  the  dark,  the  dismal  shade 
yt  hopeless  grief  rests  on  her  soul. 
And  she  must  bow  to  its  control  » 
And  as  she  spoke  the  gentle  pair 
In  sorrow  wept  together  there. 

X^J^^'lT^^  u*^^'"^^  ^^^^^  her  head, 
And  with  a  sob  of  anguish  said:    .       ' 

Ah !  little  thought  I  when  the  sun 
At  yester  morn  his  race  begun, 
iHat  I,  a  bride,  the  gay  and  blest, 

Long  long  before  he  sunk  to  rest 
Ihe  tears  of  agony  would  shed 
Above  the  wedded,  but  the  dead ! 
1  htt le  thought  that  I,  to-day, 
bhould  cast  my  bridal  robe  away  • 
And  wear  instead  the  sable  drei,' 

Joined  with  mine  own  in  holy  band, 

A  n^  ^{  T\*^  ""'*  '"  ''^^  ^»d  still ; 
And  the  dark  eye,  that  well  might  thrill 


IlELiaiON    AND   CONSOLATION. 

Mj  beating  heart  would  thrill  no  more, 
While  mine  the  burning  rain  would  pour! 
I  little  thought  to-da J  his  bride        ^ 
Would  stand  a  widow  by  his  side, 

n^^\Tl    ^  ^^^'^  o'ereharged  with   roe, 
Behold  her  every  hope  laid  low :  — 
Her  every  hope;  for  now,  0,  where 
ban  she  find  refuge  from  despair  ? 

xiru'  ^"^  ^^*  ^  recollect  the  day 

aZ.    ''  "^^"-^  "^'^'i^'  ''''^  ^''  ^^'^  breath, 
Almost  expiring  m  death,  ' 

.  m/^}.*  u'Vr'^'  ^"  *^"^^i«g  tone,        . 
•My  child,  I  leave  thee  not  alone ! 

Trust  m  my  God,  and  He  will  be 
A  Iriend  a  constant  friend,  to  thee. 
O  seek  Kehgion  in  thy  youth  ! 

bhe  11  fill  with  peace  thy  aching  breast, 
And  guide  thee  to  the  port  of  ilst.' 

"  Religion  soothed  my  mother's  fear 
When  Death  with  icy  form  drew  near ; 
And  with  a  calm  and  joyful  eye 
fehe  quitted  earth  without  a  sigh  ; 
ior  bnght  Keligion  threw  her  arm 
Around  her  form  to  shield  from  harm: 
And  with  that  sure  and  steadfast  stay 
Her  soul  passed  peacefully  away. 

A  u  ?'  *S^*  ^  ^^^  ^^^^^  fin<i  relief— 
A  balm  for  this  oppressive  grief 
Where  shall  I  seek.  it.?«'iSid  the  crowd, 
^"iyiig  ine  naughty  and  the  proud, 


121 


asm 


122 


RELIGION   AND   CONSOLATION. 


Where  I  have  moved  a  worshipped  queen, 
1  he  fairest,  gayest,  in  the  scene  ? 
Or  m  the  halls  of  festive  cheer, 
Where  music's  peal  falls  on  the  ear : 
Where  oft,  with  light  and  bounding  tread, 
With  beaming  eye  and  lofty  head, 
I  've  joined  the  gay  and  merry  throng, 
And  raised  with  them  the  festive  song? 
In  those  bright  scenes  can  my  dark  woes 
-t  ind  tor  themselves  a  sweet  repose, 
10  stay  the  current  of  despair? 
Ah !  something  whispers,  No,  not  there ! 
^ot  there !  not  there  !  -for  laughing  tones 
Would  strangely  echo  back  my  Soans: 
And  music's  soft  and  thrilling  strain 
Would  harshly  grate  upon  my  brain: 
And  every  jest  of  thoughtless  glee 
bound  like  a  funeral  knell  to  me. 

"  Earth  has  no  power,  no  pleasure,  then, 
lo  charm  my  weary  soul  again  ; 
For  earthly  joys  can  ne'er  impart 
Ihe  peace  that  heals  a  broken  heart. 
And  if  there  is  no  peace  on  earth, 
^0  joy  for  me  'mid  scenes  of  mirth, 
U,  IS  there  no  sweet  balm  above 
Deah  out  by  Heaven's  all-bounteous  love, 
io  ease  the  heavy  load  of  care; 
And  IS  there  mo  Physician  there  ?  " 
She  bowed  her  head,  and  tears  like  raia 
Kolled  swiftly  o'er  her  cheeks  aeain  : 
When,  kneeling  down  with  humble  air. 
fehe  raised  the  contrite  spirit's  prayer. 

And  while  she  prayed,  in  thrilling  tone; 
-Dclore  the  srreat.  AlnnVhf^r  tk ^        * 


RELIGION   AND   CONSOLATION. 

Vw 

For  mercy,  pardon,  and  for  grace, 
A  holy  splendor  filled  the  place  ; 
A  cloud  of  glory  quickly  spread 
Around  the  mountain's  lofty  head ; 
A  choir  of  angel  harps  were  heard, 
^y  pure  and  joyful  passions  stirred  ; 
Ihrough  heaven's  broad  dome  the  echo  ran 
And  one,  like  to  the  Son  of  man, 
In  robes  of  majesty  arrayed, 
Drew  near;  a  gentle  hand  he  laid, 
Bearing  the  nail-prints  even  now, 
Upon  Religion's  drooping  brow, 
ohe  started  with  a  joyful  cry, 
Reechoed  by  the  throngs  on  high ; 
And  as  the  pealing 'anthem  sped, 
Ihree  radiant  forms,  jvith  wings  outspread, 
Flew  quickly  through  the  airy  tide. 
And  stood  upon  the  mountain's  side; 
forgiveness  first,  with  beamincr  brow 
Where  love  and  mercy  rested  now; 
While  Hope  and  Faith  with  eager  eyes. 
And  pinions  fashioned  in  the  skies 
Followed  and  quickly  took  their  stknd 
At  Consolation's  own  right  hand 
Forgiveness  caught  a  golden  beam 
Of  pardon  from  the  living  stream 
Ul  boundless  love,  which  freely  ran 
From  God's  own  throne,  for  guilty  man, 
And  twined  it  in  a  glittering  band 
Around  the  sceptre  in  her  hand ; 
Then  clapped  her  wings,  and  swiftly  flew, 
WL-  J  bright  Religion  followed  too  ; 
And  Consolation  with  her  train 
With  gleaming  pinions  sought  the  plain. 


123 


124 


RELIOION    AND   CONSOLATION. 

Forgiveness  her  fair  sceptre  raised  ; 
With  beaming  eyes  the  mourner  gazed; 
And  as  her  bounding  spirit  caught 
The  pardon  that  it  freely  brought, 
Religion,  with  her  simple  art, 
Stole  softly  to  the  beating  heart  ; 
And  Consolation,  with  an  air 
m(.^^^^^"'^  fondness,  nestled  there; 
While  Hope  and  Faith  lent  their  glad  wings 
lo  raiso  her  soul  from  earthly  things. 

Unto  the  bright  and  beaming  skies 
Ihe  mourner  raised  her  joyful  eyes 
And  murmured,  now  resigned  and  calm  : 

Ihere  is  m  heaven  a  soothing  balm, 
Ihere  is  a  great  Physician  there, 
To  heal  each  wound,  to  soothe  each  care. 

A^  T^     "^^  ^^^^^'  *^®  ^al»i  I  've  won 
And,  Father,  now  thy  will  be  done'"  ' 
Ihen  angels  tuned  their  harps  again 
Unto  a  high  and  holier  strain. 
And  chanted  in  their  homes  above 
The  wonders  of  redeeming  love. 


THE    BROTHERS. 


PART    I. 

The  sun  had  set ;  the  long,  bright  day 
Had  melted  into  twilight  gray; 
The  rising  moon  shed  her  first 'beam 
Un  smiling  plain  and  mountain  stream: 
Nature  had  calmly  sunk  to  rest, 
Ihe  dew-drop  on  her  peaceful  breast  ; 
While  angel  fingers  folded  up 
The  petals  in  each  tiny  cup, 
And  lulled  into  a  sweet  repose 
The  lily  and  the  blushing  rose. 
Within  a  fair,  embowered  retreat, 
Where  they  were  often  wont  to  meet. 
With  arm  in  arm  two  brothers  stand, 
And  each  one  grasps  the  other's  hand : 
^ach  gazes  in  the  other's  face 
Where  sorrow  now  has  left  its' trace  : 
Each  eye  is  dim,  and  pale  each  brow; 
Ihe  hps  of  each  are  trembling  now  : 
Each  heart  with  grief  is  gushing  o'er : 
Ihey  part,  perchance  to  meet  no  more ! 

"Brother,  when  next  our  tearful  eyes 
bhall  view  the  pallid  moon  arise, 

When  next  wa  mai.ir  -.r^^  ^ _•., 

—  .     — .,.-  j^u  cvoumg  star, 

Ihy  home  and  mine  will  be  afar 
11# 


126 


THE   BROTHERS. 


From  these  dear  scenes ;  thine  on  the  main, 

And  mine  upon  the  battle-plain. 

How  oft  we  've  wandered  arm  in  arm, 

To  view  each  beauty  and  each  charm 

That  clustered  round  this  peaceful  spot ! 

(0,  days  that  ne'er  may  be  forgot !) 

What  hopes  we  formed,  what  bright  plans  then, 

What  deeds  to  do  when  we  were  men ! 

Alas  !  those  blissful  hours  are  o'er  ; 

They  may  return  to  us  no  more. 

No  longer  ours  the  buoyant  heart 

For,  O,  dear  brother,  we  must  part ! 
Long  years  may  pass  before  we  stand 
Thus  side  by  side,  thus  hand  in  hand  ; 
But  let  us  hope,  though  youth  be  o'er. 
That  we  in  love  shall  meet  once  more.'* 
The  elder  spoke.     His  haughty  brow,' 
His  flashing  eye,  grew  tender  now ; 
He  drew  still  nearer  to  his  side 
The  younger  one,  who  thus  replied  ; 

"  Brother,  no  tongue  my  woe  can  tell, 
As  we  together  bid  farewell 
Unto  our  childhood's  happy  home, 
And  then  as  lonely  wanderers  roam. 
We  've  often  sought  this  lovely  bower. 
Yet  never  knew  I  till  this  hour 
How  dear  thou  wast  unto  my  heart. 
Nor  thought  how  hard  't  would  be  to  part. 
And,  O,  if  ever  we  should  meet 
Within  this  fair,  this  dear  retreat, 
God  grant  we  may  not  meet  estranged ! 
But,  brother,  we  shall  both  be  chano-ed  • 
Belentless  time  will  leave  its  trace  ° 
Upon  each  brow,  upon  each  face  : 


THE   BftOTUKRS. 

New  cares  be  ours,  new  hopes  and  fears. 
And  wo  shall  change  with  rolling  years. 
1  go  beyond  the  dark  blue  wave; 
In  foreign  lands  may  be  my  grave. 
Ihee,  glory,  with  its  martial  strain, 
Summons  unto  the  battle-plain. 
I  go  unto  a  nobler  field, 
My  helmet  hope,  and  faith  my  shield. 

"  The  trumpet's  wild  and  rude  alarms, 
When  loudly  calling  thee  to  arms,  ^ 
Ihe  cannon's  roar,  the  deafening  cry 
Ihat  shakes  the  earth  and  rends  the  sky.- 
WiU  be  like  music  to  thine  ear, 
And  music  that  thou  lovest  to  hear. 
^  For  me,  the  penitential  prayer 

^irj/u^^^'  ^^^  chief  of  sinners  spare!  " 

VViU  be  as  sweet  as  angel's  tone 

When  swelling  round  the  Eternal  Throne 

Ihe  warrior's  wreath,  the  warrior's  prize, 

Will  tascmate  thine  eager  eyes; 

The  blood-stained  laurels  thou  wilt  twine 

Around  that  youthful  brow  of  thine 

And  thou  wilt  struggle  for  a  name, 

hor  earthly  honors,  earthly  fame. 

I  go  ;  't  is  not  for  ease  nor  wealth, 

I  sacrifice  my  home  and  health, 

My  life,  my  all;  not  for  a  name— - 

No,  brother,  not  for  earthly  fame; 

But  I  may  hope,  when  life  is  o'er. 

To  reach  a  bright,  a  blissful  shore, 

A  home  all  beautiful  and  fair. 

And  find  my  name  recorded  there. 

Like  thee,  I  seek  the  battle-field ; 


127 


JA\ra   i^Vtan      T>I1 :. 


•  ««is.-_-     viiVV,     X     il    Ji 


5-;vcr,  never 


yieid 


I 


r*>, 


128  TUB   BROTJIERS. 

My  foes  are  strong  and  fierce  as  thine  ; 

My  glorious  Captain  is  divine. 

With  his  own  blood,  for  sinners  shed, 

He  marks  the  path  I  have  to  tread. 

He  spreads  his  banners  to  the  sky ;  • 

He  bids  me  haste,  he  bids  me  fly, 

By  all  his  sufferings  on  the  cross, 

To  save  the  dying  and  the  lost ; 

By  all  his  agony  and  woe, 

By  all  his  love,  he  bids  me  go 

To  lands  enshrouded  by  despair. 

To  plant  his  glorious  standard  there  ! 

And  it  shall  be  my  highest  aim 

To  publish,  through  my  Master's  name, 

A  Saviour's  love,  a  Saviour's  grace, 

Unto  a  sinful,  heathen  race. 

"  We  part  —  and  we  may  never  meet, 
May  never  hold  communion  sweet ; 
But  there 's  a  world  beyond  the  grave. 

Beyond  death's  dark  and  gloomy  wave 

A  rest  I  humbly  hope  to  share ; 

0,  brother!  shall  X  meet  thee  there? 

We  've  shared  on  earth  one  common  home, 

And  one  in  heart  we  still  shall  roam ; 

We  've  loved,  we  've  soothed  each  other's  grief, 

And  each  to  each  has  brought  relief; 

0 !  shall  we  meet  around  the  throne, 

With  crowns  of  life,  and  heaven  our  own  ? 

Shall  we  both  join  the  blood-washed  throng? 

Shall  we  both  swell  the  Conqueror's  song? 

0,  brother !  that  devoted  band. 

From  ev'ry  clime  and  ev'ry  land, 

Have  washed  away  their  guilty  stains 

In  blood  drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins. 


i; 


et, 


)me, 
r's  grief, 

V7n? 
rong  ? 
ng? 


TOE   BROTHERS.  129 

And  J^muHf  plunge  be;    -h  ^ho  flood 
Filled  with  the  dying  Saviour's  blood; 
Ihou,  too,  before  the  throne  must  fall. 
Kesign  th;  pride,  thy  will,  thine  all, 
ihyeago    thirst  for  earthly  fame  — 
Before  ^  o  u  arid  confess  His  name ; 
Ur  thou  canst  never  reach  the  shore 
Where  grief  and  pain  are  felt  no  more. 

"  Thou  oft  hast  frowned  when  I  have  shown 
The  way  to  God's  Eternal  Throne  ;  —       ' 
T  was  galling  to  thy  haughty  heart;  — 
^ut  since  that  we  so  soon  must  part, 
Thou  wilt  not  frown,  thou  wilt  not  chide; 
And  when  the  waves  shall  us  divide, 
And  I  no  more  thy  form  can  see, 

0  then  I  '11  bend  the  suppliant  knee; 

1  11  pray,  as  ne'er  I  prayed  before, 
Ihat  it  on  earth  we  meet  no  more, 
VVe  each  may  grasp  the  other's  hand 
Within  the  bright,  the  better  land, 
And  crowns  of  life  and  glory  wear ! 
U,  brother,  seek  an  entrance  there !  " 

The  haughty  youth  did  not  reply. 
The  tear-drop  filled  his  dimming  eye: 
Upon  his  brother's  face  he  gazed, 
And  each  their  trembling  voices  raised  : 

"  Brother,  we  part,  we  part ; 

We  leave  our  childhood's  home ; 
With  faltering  step  and  heart. 
We  lonely  wanderers  roam ; 
In  forests  green, 

On  hill     in  flnH 

We  meet  no  more ; 
Farewell,  farewell ! 


mt 


130 


THE   BROTHERS. 

"Brother,  we  part,  we  part; 
.     To-morrow's  sun  shall  set 
On  throbbing  brow  and  heart 
That  never  can  forget. 
With  love  the  same 

Each  heart  shall  swell 
Through  rolling  years ; 
Farewell,  farewell ! 

"  Brother,  we  part,  we  part ; 
And  if  we  meet  no  more. 
We  '11  meet  with  yearning  heart 
Upon  a  better  shore. 

Then,  then,  our  bliss 
No  tongue  can  tell. 
Brother,  we  part ; 
Farewell,  farewell ! " 

The  song  had  ceased  :  a^ain  they  spoke, 
Again  the  painful  silence  broke. 
'' ^^otlier,  we  '11  set  a  day,  a  year, 
When  we  will  meet  together  here  ; 
If  we  are  spared,  in  ten  years  more 
VVe  '11  seek  again  our  native  shore,  — 
Together  roam  o'er  hill  and  glen. 
Adieu,  dear  bower;  adieu,  till  then  I  » 


PART    II. 

MiTu^^^f  ?^^®^  away  —  ten  dreary  years, 
With  all  their  changes,  hopes  and  fears. 
Ihe  sun  was  sinking ;  his  last  fires 
Kested  upon  the  church's  spires ; 
The  moon  was  rising  to  the  view. 
Amid  the  broad  expanse  of  blue,' 


TUB  BBOTHERa. 

When,  crossing  o'er  the  village  green 
4;'°"!.'y/?nderer  was  seen.  ^ 
With  faltering  step  he  moved  alone- 

§!  iT'^  '^  nightingale's  sweet  sfn'g  • 

sigh  softly  through  the  fragrant  trees  • 
He  saw  h.s  childhood's  home  aga  n      ' 
And  burning  tear-drops  fell  likf  rain 
AU  nature  looked  as  Llm  and  fa  r 
As  when  a  boy  he  wandered  there- 

As  beautiful  the  hill  and  glen;         ' 

And  there  his  father's  house  appeared 
But  ah !  he  saw  the  ft™  no  more 
That  used  to  cluster  round  the  door- 

&;^  "O"""™  the  joyful  tone    ' 
Ihat  used  to  welcome  him  at  home  - 
He  saw  no  more  the  smiling  face 
Eeceaved  no  more  the  fond  embrace. 

"I  view  the  scenes  of  other  yeirs, 
I  view  my  chUdhood's  home ; 
Why  fall  so  fast,  ye  scalding  tears? 
And  why,  my  heart,  so  lone? 

"  ^'unon  7,  • "'  ^"ff  ™«« ""s'  I  gazed 
Upon  this  peaceful  spot ;  ® 

wi?"?'  /""S  -^""^  -  "las !  alas  • 
What  changes  they  have  wrought ! 

"The  wild  flowers  blossom  in  the  dell, 
«  7 7>  I"""!!  ™ns  just  as  clear; 
But^  0,  the  friends  I  loved  so  wdl 
i^-^ay  never  meei  me  here  ! 


131 


132 


THE  BROTHERS. 


"  The  gardens  bloom,  but  not  as  then ; 
No  tender  hand  bestows 
Its  care  upon  the  trailing  vines, 
Or  on  the  fragrant  rose. 

"  There  stands  our  old  ancestral  home, 
And  there  the  tall  elms  wa^a; 
But,  ah  !  they  cast  their  shadows  o'er 
My  father's  lowly  grave. 


(( 


And  by  his  side  another  sleeps 

Within  that  dreary  bed, 
Where  death  alone  his  vigil  keeps,  — 

My  mother,  too,  is  dead. 


"  All  that  I  loved  have  passed  away, 
And,  0,  how  changed  am  I !  — 
I  went  with  health  upon  my  cheek, 
I  now  return  to  die. 

"  From  India's  burning  clime  I  come, 
With  pale  and  haggard  brow ; 
Just  spared,  perhaps  to  view  this  hour ;  - 
0,  brother !  where  art  thou  ?  " 

He  spoke  no  more ;  with  drooping  head, 
And  with  a  slow  and  thoughtful  tread, 
He  sought  the  bower  —  the  chosen  bower  ; 
He  waited  till  the  appointed  hour. 
No  brother  came.     With  anxious  brow, 
And  heart  that  beat  all  wildly  now, 
He  wandered  forth  and  gazed  around ; 
When,  lo !  a  horse's  clanging  bound 
Disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  scene 
Where  silence  long  alone  had  been; 


\ 


THE   BROTHER?.  • 

And  soon  a  proud  and  stately  form 

As  born  to  battle  with  the  storm,    ' 
With  eager  look  and  rapid  pace, 
Approached  to  the  sequestered  place. 
His  hp  was  stern,  his  bearing  high, 
A  strange  light  in  his  flashing  eye: 
His  trusty  sword  he  proudly  wore  ; 
A  plume  his  brow  was  waving  o'er  • 
His  once  fair  cheek  was  changed  to' brown  ; 
His  haughty  features  wore  a  frown- 
And  shinmg  sword,  and  waving  crest, 
And  star  upon  the  noble  breast. 
And  hp  that  seemed  to  smile  at  grief 
^espoke  the  warrior  and  the  chief.     ' 
Nearer  he  drew  i  one  mingled  cry 
Of  "  Brother,  brother !  »  rent  the  sky ; 

And  warrior  fVom  the  battle  plain 
i^orgot  awhile  the  martial  strain, 
And  warrior  from  a  heathen  land 
l^orgot  awhile  the  dark-browed  band 
Of  ransomed  ones  who  used  to  meet 
With  him  around  the  mercy-seat; 
^or  brothers,  parted  long  before, 
Kushed  to  each  other's  arms  once  more : 
And  hearts  beat  high,  and  tear-drops  fell, 
As  when  they  bade  to  each  farewell. 

The  brothers  wept;  for  in  that  hour 
fetern  memory,  with  her  wondrous  power, 
Kecalled  the  scenes  of  other  years  -- 
Their  mutual  hopes,  their  mutual  fears, 
The  frieHds  whom  they  had  loved  before, 
And  friends  whom  they  might  meet  no  more, 
ihey  saw  the  change  that  time  had  wrought: 
-Liua,  u,  iiow  sad  the  bitter  thought         "     ' 
12  *=    ' 


133 


■  ^•SL 


134 


THE    BROTHERS. 


That  they,  the  fond  and  faithful  pair, 
Who  oft  had  met  together  there, 
Were  also  changed  !  for  one  pale  brow 
Bespoke  of  care  and  suiFering  now ; 
The  hollow  cheek,  the  painful  breath, 
Spoke  strangely  of  the  tomb,  of  death ! 

"  Brother !  0,  brother !  years  have  past, 
And  here  we  meet  again  at  last. 
We  parted  in  our  early  youth ; 
Our  hearts  were  strong  with  love  and  truth 
And  time  has  not  those  hearts  estranged ; 
But,  brother,  thou,  indeed,  art  changed. 
Thy  cheek  was  bright  as  morning's  glow; 
Care  has  been  thine,  and  want  and  woe. 
0,  tell  thy  griefs  and  trials  o'er 
To  one  who  loves  thee  as  of  yore ; 
And  if  he  cannot  bring  relief. 
Thy  brother  sure  can  share  thy  grief! " 

"0,  brother!  how  that  voice  of  thine 

Thrills  through  this  weary  breast  of  mine ! 

Tbe  very  voice  I  used  to  hear. 
Forever  loved,  forever  dear !  — 
■T  is  joy  to  meet  the  fond  and  true, 
To  whom  we  bade  a  long  adieu ; 
'T  is  joy  to  hear  once  more  the  tone 
Which  seemed  an  echo  of  our  own ; 
Then,  0,  what  joy  to  meet  with  thee. 
Thou  dearest  friend  on  earth  to  me  ! 
How  oft  I  've  sighed,  at  twilight  hour, 
To  greet  thee  in  this  lovely  bower ;  • 

To  clasp  thy  hand,  thy  joys  to  share. 
To  know  thy  every  grief  and  care; 
And  in  return,  to  tell  thee  mine. 
And  find  a  pitying  heart  in  thine ! 


THE    BROTIIEKS. 

Yet  oft  I  felt— I  know  not  why, 

And  then  the  tear  would  fill  mine  eye 

That  in  my  griefs,  my  hopes,  and  fears, 

The  partner  of  my  early  years 

Could  have  no  share;  —  would  not  deride, 

I  knew  he  would  not  frown  nor  chide; 

And  yet,  I  knew  his  highest  aim 

Had  been  to  win  a  glorious  name ; 

I  knew  that  he  had  won  the  prize  ; 

I  knew  the  world's  admiring  eyes 

We.  •  n^ed  on  him  —  the  brave  and  young; 

I  kuew  that  fadeless  laurels  hung 

Around  his  proud  and  noble  brow. 

I  saw  the  great  and  haughty  bow 

Unto  the  conqueror,  as  he  came 

With  trophies  won  and  bright  with  fame. 

I  did  not  envy  him  ;  ah,  no  ! 

And  yet  a  bitter  pang  of  woe 

Shot  through  my  heart,  and  I  have  wept, 

When  all-  around  have  calmly  slept, 

To  think  that  he,  my  brother,  friend, 

Would  never  from  his  height  descend, 

To  bend  the  knee,  to  breathe  a  prayer 

For  me,  when  sinking  with  despair ; 

Nor  with  me,  at  the  throne  of  grace, 

Plead  for  a  wretched  heathen  race. 

But  though  I  speak  of  grief  and  pain, 

Brother,  think  not  my  mission  vain ; 

For  I,  unworthy  as  I  am, 

Have  pointed  sinners  to  the  Lamb. 

How  great  the  boon  I  how  sweet  the  thought » 

It  is  enough ;  't  is  all  I  sought. 

"Ten  years  ago,  this  very  hour, 

..Jiii3  zvrcij  wuvvur  ; 


135 


!■! 


im 


THE  BIlOTHEllS. 


^en  life  was  young,  the  future  bright. 
Brother,  how  do  we  meet  to-night  ? 
Then  hope  thy  bounding  bosom  thrilled; 
U !  hast  thou  seen  thy  hopes  fulfilled?  " 

"  Yes,  all ;  for  I  have  won  a  name 

Laurels  are  mine,  and  deathless  fame. 

I  Ve  stood  upon  the  battle-field 

With  gory  sword  and  broken  shield; 

I  've  heard  the  cannon's  deafening  roar; 

I  've  seen  the  crimson  torrents  pour ; 

I  've  felt  my  own  life-blood  to  start,' 

And  agony  has  wrung  my  heart ; 

Yet  on,  still  onward,  I  have  pressed, 

With     ndiing  eye  and  dauntless  breast ; 

i^or  glory  beckoned  from  afar. 

And  glory  was  my  guiding  star. 

Through  toil  and  hardships  I  have  past, 

i5ut  I  have  won  the  prize  at  last ; 

A  rich  reward  I  have  obtaiDed. 

But  what,  dear  brother,  hast  thou  gained? 

Thy  cheek  is  pale,  thy  form  is  bent. 

Thy  youthful  energies  are  spent ; 

And  spent  for  what?  for  future  ease? 

For  fame,  for  wealth  ?  —  ah,  none  of  these ! " 

"  'Tis  true,  I've  reached  my  native  shore, 
A  wreck  of  what  I  was  before; 
I  went  in  youth,  I  went  in  health. 
But  did  not  go  for  fame  or  wealth. 
I  've  won  the  prize  I  sought  to  win  — 
Seen  sinners  saved  from  death  and  sin; 
And  while  the  warrior's  wreath  is  thiae, 
A  crown  of  glory  will  be  mine  ! 
I  know  that  on  my  pallid  brow 
^«v  scrti  ui  uoavu  15  resting  now; 


137 


THE   BROTUEKS. 

But  I  can  look  beyond  the  gloom 

ihat  hangs  around  the  dreary  tomb, 

And  reamsofendless  beauty  see, 

Prepared  through  Jesus'  blood  for  me. 

And  when  I  reach  the  dismal  tide, 

Ihe  raging  waters  will  divide  : 

Jesus  will  safely  guide  me  o'er 

10  Canaan's  fair  and  peaceful  shore! 

1  am  not  worthy  of  such  bliss, 

^otworthyofahcpelikethis; 

^ut,  through  the  merits  of  the  Lamb, 

Wretched  and  sinful  as  I  am 

I  hope  to  reach  the  better  land  • 

1  hope  to  join  the  blood-washed 'band ; 

And  find  the  ransomed  heathen  there 
With  whom,  in  lands  beyond  the  sea, 
1  ve  often    ent  the  suppliant  knee. 

"What  have  I  gained  ?  •-  nor  ease,  nor  fame  • 
gckness  and  sorrow,  want  and  shame,  ' 

Have  been  my  lot;  yet  of  them  all, 
^ot  one  rude  pang  would  I  recall : 
^or  my  Redeemer  and  my  God 
:fc  irst  trod  the  path  that  I  have  trod  : 
^or  me  the  crown  of  thorns  he  wore. 

:tor  me  the  painful  cross  he  bore, 
^or  me  he  died  on  Calvary's  hill, 
^or  me,  for  me,  he 's  pleading  still. 
My  wants  and  sorrows  have  been  few 
±0  what  my  dear  Redeemer  knew  : 
He  s  sympathized  with  every  care 

In  all  my  griefs  he 's  had  a  share/ 
On  land  ana  on  the  billowy  foam  : 

And  nnnr  Ho  nan4-\^^ ii i 

■""  5'- ""J  »^ai5B  iue  noiiJie. 

12# 


138 


THE   BROTHERS. 


1 1    ;il 


How  bright  that  home  -  how  sweet  my  rest  - 
When  on  my  Saviour's  loving  breast    ^ 
This  aching  head  shall  find  repose  — 
Ihis  weary  heart  forget  its  woes ! 

"What  hast  thou  gained  of  earthly  bliss, 
That  ever  can  compare  with  this  ? 
>\  hat  hast  thou  gained  ? -5-  0,  brother,  think  • 

If  now  thou  stood'st  upon  the  brink 
Ut  the  eternal  world,  what  power 
Lould  cheer  in  such  a  trying  hour  ? 
Would  laurel-wreaths  dispel  the  gloom, 
Or  gild  the  passage  to  the  tomb  ? 
Would  all  the  honors  earth  bestows 

Kllth^'  *T"  ^'r*  "'  ^"^'^  thy'woes? 
Or  will  the  glory  thou  hast  won 

Obtain  the  blissful  words,  "  W  .11  done  ' " 

And  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  ? 
Ah  !  we  alike  have  toiled  and  fc^o-ht 
And  we  have  won  the  prize  we  soiTght  ; 
:But  ask,  dear  brother,  of  thy  heart, 
uia  1  not  choose  the  better  part?  » 

He  paused  awhile,  the  tears  fell  fast : 
In  trembling  tones  he  spoke  at  last  : 

Jirother,  we  parted  years  before: 
He  soon  shall  part  to  meet  no  more 
We  ne  er  again,  at  twilight  hour. 
Shall  stand  within  this  lovely  bower 
Our  hearts  may  heave,  our  bosoms  swell, 
But  we  7mist  say  a  last  farewell, 
femce  last  we  met,  two  cherished  forms, 

Havetft'r^"'  ^T  ''''^''  '^^'  «*o^s, 
Have  left  our  home,  have  sunk  to  rest, 

Ine  tiirr  nnon  no«V,  i;<v,i-__  i  ' 


rest  — 


iss, 


link !  — 


THE   BIIOTHERS. 

Ah  !  wc  shall  miss  our  father's  tone 
Within  the  halls  so  dark  and  lone, 
And  T't  shall  miss  our  mother's  smile, 
And  we  shall  miss  her  love  the  while. 
In  calm  repose  those  dear  ...os  sleep  • 
Over  their  tombs  we  both  will  weep  ; 
Beside  their  tombs  we  both  will  bend. 
And  then,  0,  then,  my  brother,  friend, 
For  thee  my  very  heart-strings  break  ! 
The  burning  tear-  fall  for  thy  sake  — 
For,  when  thou  next  shalt  wander  there, 
I,  too,  their  quiet  rest  shall  share ; 
Aiid  thou,  while  tears  of  anguish  start, 
Wilt  stand  alone  with  bursting  heart. 

"  And  should'st  thou  ever  seek  this  spot 
(I  know  't  will  never  be  forgot. 
For  memory  still  will  hold  it  dear)  — 
0,  thou  wilt  miss  thy  brother  here  ! 
Years  may  roll  on  —  ten  may  be  past— 
And  yet  this  meeting  is  our  last ! 
Our  last  on  earth,  our  last  in  time  ! 
0,  shall  we  meet  in  that  bright  clime 
Where  death  and  parting  are  unknown, 
And  joy  and  rapture  reign  alone  ? 

"  I  leave  thee,  brother,  and  I  go. 
Willing  to  part  with  all  below. 
Save  thee  alone.     How  can  I  part 
With  one  so  dear  unto  my  heart. 
And  fear  (God  gmnt  it  may  be  vain  !) 
That  we  shall  never  meet  again  ? 


189 


"  0,  brother  :  brother  !  soon  mv  h*^ad 
Will  rest  amid  the  silent  dead  ;    " 


140 


TII£   BROTUEKS. 


'« 


i  r' 


Soon  I  shall  yield  my  fleeting  breath  ; 
Soon  will  my  voice  be  hushed  in  death ; 
Then  let  me  plead,  as  ne'er  before 
I  plead  with  thee  in  days  of  yore, 
That  thou  wilt  bond  thy  stubborn  soul, 
And  own  a  Saviour's  mild  control ; 
By  all  his  boundless  love  for  thee. 
Unto  his  side  for  safety  flee; 
The  cross,  though  shameful,  boldly  bear. 
And  in  thy  Master's  suSerings  share ; 
Then,  when  a  few  more  years  are  o'er. 
We  '11  meet  upon  the  heavenly  shore ; 
In  sweet  accord  we  '11  loudly  raise 
Our  songs  of  love  and  endless  praise, 
Forgetful  of  our  sorrows  here, 
Forgetful  of  the  falling  tear ;  — 
Or,  if  our  thoughts  we  ever  cast 
On  these  dark  scenes  within  the  past. 
We  '11  shout  and  we  '11  rejoice  the  more, 
To  think  those  trying  scenes  are  o'er  — 
To  think  that  we  have  gained  the  land 
Where  we  can  clasp  each  other's  hand, 
And  fear  no  parting,  fear  no  change. 
But  arm  in  arm  forever  range 
The  shores  of  love,  with  hearts  that  swell, 
But  dread  no  more  the  sad  farewell ! 

"  I  leave  thee,  brother  ;   down  thy  face 
The  burning  tears  each  other  trace ; 
Thy  heart  is  rent  with  pangs  of  woe ; 
'T  is  twined  round  me,  and  yet  —  I  go  ! 
And  when  upon  my  death-sealed  brow 
The  tear-drops  fall,  0,  wilt  not  thou 
Remember  that  the  dying  prayer, 
Of  hiiii  who  sleeps  SO  caluiiy  there, 


THE   BBOTHEBS.  J^J 

Arose  in  agony  for  thee  ? 

Then,  brother,  wilt  thou  bend  the  knee  ?  "  — 

He  ceased ;  his  trembling  voice  grew  weak. 
And  paler  grew  his  hollow  cheek  ; 
Within  each  other's  arms  the  pair 
In  anguish  wept  together  there ; 
Heart  answered  heart  with  wondrous  power, 
Ihough  lips  were  mute  in  that  sad  hour. 

Through  all  the  long  and  dreary  night, 
lill  morning  broke  in  splendor  bright, 
Beside  the  couch  of  death  and  pain 
A  brother  knelt  with  burning  brain. 
On  the  pale  brow  the  sunbeams  fell, 
The  parting  spirit  sighed,  «  Farewell !  "— 
The  strife  is  o'er,  the  soul  is  free  — 
The  wretched  mourner,  where  is  he  ? 
Alone  ;  —  save  his  no  footstep  falls 
Within  his  father's  ancient  halls ; 
No  friend  is  near  with  soothing  tone, 
No  heart  to  sorrow,  save  his  own. 

With  trembling  lip  and  pallid  brow 
He  seeks  the  lonely  garden  now. 
He  's  reached  ^e  bower  —  how  'sinks  his  soul ! 
U,  how  the  burning  tear-drops  roll ! 

He  listens  —  but  he  knows  't  is  vain 

To  hear  his  brother's  voice  again  ; 

He  knows  he  sleeps  in  calm  repose, 
Forgetful  of  his  pains  and  woes ; 
He  almost  longs  that  rest  to  share,  — 
When,  hark  !  upon  the  balmy  air 
There  seems  to  come  a  gentle  tone.  — 
i  «  a-,Tv.vt,   i,io  iiiniiiug,  una  well  known  : 


142 


II  4 


mi 
ii 


THE  BROrnERS. 


■  ■  I 


>:. 


It  whispers  in  a  tender  strain, 

"  0,  brother,  shall  we  meet  again  ?  " 

Forgotten  now  the  sword  and  shield,  — 
Forgotten  now  the  battle-field  ! 
The  haughty  chief  has  knelt  in  prayer, 
And  love  and  penitence  are  there. 
The  world  recedes,  and  heaven  appears,  — 
Seraphic  music  greets  his  ears, 
And  holy  smiles  play  round  his  brow, 
As  thus  he  breathes  the  sacred  vow  : 
"  All  that  I  loved  I  now  resign ;  — 
Wealth,  fame  and  honor,  once  were  mine, 
But  now  no  more.     Welcome  the  cross ! 
Compared  with  which  all  things  are  loss. 
The  laurel-wreath,  that  glory  twined 
Around  my  brow,  I  will  unbind ; 
I  '11  lay  my  sword  and  helmet  down  ; 
I  '11  battle  for  a  heavenly  crown. 
To  lands  beyond  the  raging  wave  — 
Where  my  departed  brother  gave 
His  youth,  his  energies,  his  all, 
Obedient  to  his  Master's  call  — 
There  I  will  go,  —  through  Jesus'  grace 
I  '11  strive  to  fill  my  brother's  place. 
Welcome,  then,  earthly  grief  and  pain  ! 
0,  brother,  we  shall  meet  again  I  " 

Years  passed  away  ;  where  palm-trees  wave 
Their  branches  o'er  a  lowly  grave, 
A  true  and  a  devote  ]  band 
Of  India's  sons  and  daughters  stand. 
With  tearful  cheek  and  pensive  brow ; 
For  they  have  lost  their  leader  now  ! 
Thftv  bfind  the  kne^^  ♦hew  hvAiflio  a  vwotrAf 

They  raise  their  trembling  voices  there ;  — 


I 

i 


THE  BROTHERS. 

Faith  gilds  each  tear  that  sorrow  weeps. 
Beneath  that  mound  the  warrior  sleeps , 
^ar  from  his  childhood'H  peaceful  home 
Far  0  er  the  billows'  watery  foam, 
He  calmly  rests ;  his  race  is  run. 
The  everlasting  prize  is  won, 

Within  the  bright,  the  better  land  » 


143 


THE   SURRENDER  OF   QUEBEC. 


The  orb  of  day  upon  his  pathway  pressed, 
Beaming  with  splendor,  toward  the  shining  west ; 
Cast  one  long,  lingering  glance  upon  the  scene ; 
Lit  up  the  river  and  the  forest  green, 
Left  his  last  rays  upon  the  lordly  dome. 
And  deigned  to  smile  upon  the  peasant's  home ; 
Then,  'neath  the  western  hills  he  sought  repose, 
And  sank  to  rest  as  calmly  as  he  rose. 
Bright  at  the  dawn  of  day,  but  brighter  now, 
"When  day  had  almost  passed,  and  round  her  brow 
Hung  the  expiring  beams  of  dazzling  light, 
The  certain  presage  of  approaching  night. 
Slowly  his  gorgeous  train,  like  him,  withdrew, 
Changing  as  they  advanced  in  form  and  hue, 
Until  one  lovely  tint  of  fairest  dye 
Stole  softly  o'er  the  calm  and  cloudless  sky ; 
Day,  gently  smiling,  left  her  gleaming  throne. 
And  evening  fair  came  forth,  and  reigned  alone. 
The  twinkling  stars  the  azure  vault  adorned ;  . 
Like  glistening  gems,  a  glorious  crown  they  formed, 
And  proudly  sat  in  splendor  pure  and  bright 
Upon  the  pale  and  pensive  brow  of  night ; 
While  in  the  midst  of  all,  with  tranquil  mien. 
Mild  Cynthia  lent  enchantment  to  the  scene. 


h 


.J   ^_I. 


ij  sprciiuiu|^  pustures  grccii  uuu  itiu', 
And  lofty  hills  and  waving  forests,  where 


THE  SUBIlENDMl  Or  QUEBEC.  I45 

The  human  voice  had  never  yet  been  heard, 

Or  other  sound,  save  when  the  depths  were  stirred 

By  the  loud  screams  of  some  lone"  midnight  bird 

But  h,gh  o'er  all  the  lofty  city  rose,       ^ 

Firm  m  its  strength,  sublime  in  its  repose ; 

On  every  hand  by  nature  fortiHed, 

And  strongly  built ;  with  air  of  conscious  pride 

aTsLIT,  f  ''^'S'"^  "P""  *e  scene  below. 
And  bade  defiance  to  each  lurking  foe ; 
Confiding  ,n  its  bulwarks  firm  and  sure. 
It  calmly  slept  and  dreamed  itself  secure ! 

The  river  swept  along;  with  surging  roar 

WhUeTilt"';"*^ ""  "■«  ^oc^y'^^; 

Th»  I      1,^  '"■°?'^'  «'^P'"'sive  bosom  lay 
The  twinkling  orbs  in  beautiful  array  •  ' 
And  every  pearly  drop  shone  clear  and  bright 
Bathed  in  a  flood  of  soft  and  silvery  "fgh^^*' 
Scarcely  a  ripple  stirred  its  quiet  bri  f ; 
For  every  sighing  breeze  was  lulled  to  r4t 
And  every  sound  was  hushed  on  earth,  ^dr 
And  silence  held  supreme  dominion  theZ      ' 

FrotTo^ l't:r thlron^h"- "^  ^"^"*  ''«^^' 
Watched  by  tie  TuV  oTs^ff^^:;  ^^TZ:'^  '' 

l^te^tinter:^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Nor  scorned  to  visit  those  of  mean  estSe  * 
But  blessed  alike  the  lofty  and  the  low     ' 
Alike  bade  each  forget  their  wei<.ht  J'„„„ 
xue  proud  and  wealthy  drew  aroSnd  their  teeast 
The  curtains  of  repose,"  and  sank  to  r^t;' 


146 


TUB   SUBllENDEll   OE   QUliBEC. 


\ 


The  pallid  sons  of  want  and  hunger  slept, 
And  sorrow's  sons  forgot  that  they  had  wept. 

The  night  wore  slowly  on ;  the  dismal  tower 
Had  long  since  toiled  the  lonely  midnight  hour  ; 
When  a  proud  band,  by  daring  impulse  led, 
Approached  the  river  with  a  cautious  tread ; 
With  kindling  eye  and  with  an  eager  air, 
Unmoored  the  boats  that  waited  for  them  there ; 
In  silence  left  the  calm  and  peaceful  shore, 
In  sullen  silence  plied  the  hasty  oar ; 
In  silence  passed  adown  the  quiet  stream, 
While  ever  and  anon  a  pale  moonbeam. 
Sad  and  reproachful,  cast  a  hasty  glance 
On  polished  dagger  and  on  gleaming  lance. 

The  scene  was  mournful,  and  with  magic  art 
It  acted  strangely  on  each  manly  heart ;  — 
No  speedy  action  now,  no  rude  alarm, 
Called  forth  their  powers,  or  nerved  the  stalwart  arm. 
No  present  danger  used  its  strong  control. 
To  rouse  the  passions  of  the  warrior's  soul ; 
But  all  conspired  to  place  thought  on  her  throne, 
And  yield  the  reins  of  power  to  her  alone ! 

The  past  came  slowly  forth  with  all  its  train 
Of  blissful  scenes  that  ne'er  might  be  again ; 
Of  mournful  partings  and  convulsive  sighs  ; 
Of  pallid  faces,  and  of  tearful  eyes ; 
Of  achiLg  hearts  that  heaved  with  swrrow's  swell, 
And  broken  tones  that  sadly  breathed,  "  Farewell !  " 
And  in  the  silence  of  that  lonely  hour, 
Which  bade  the  sternest  own  its  wondrous  power,. 
A  small,  still  voice  whisperod  in  everv  soul. 
Although  each  sought  to*  burst  from  its  control : 


( 
I 
I 


F 


THE   SUIUIENDEII   OF   QUEBEC. 


147 


May  shed  her  beams  upon  your  death-sealed  brow ' 

Tn^l  ^  '  P^'/'^^"^^'  ^^y  fill  a  soldier's  grave  • 
To-ruorrow  night  your  spirit  may  explore  ^  ' 
The  boundless  regions  of  an  unknown  shore ' 

His  fearless  sp.nt  unto  sorrow's  sway, 

Or  dread  the  issue  of  the  coming  day 

The  momentary  sadno  ■  now  was  o'er 

As  with  new  hopes  they  neared  the  frowning  shore 

Landed  in  silence,  and,  in  stern  array.         ^        "' 

Pressed  firmly  forward  on  their  dangerous  way 

S  > IM'''  "'       '  ""^'  ''''^  footfteps  sC^' 
And  left  the  m„, curing  river  far  below. 

From  cliff  to  cliff  the  gallant  army  spring 
Nor  envy  now  the  eagle's  soaring  wing  f 
They  view  their  labors  o'er,  their  obje!t  gain. 
And  proudly  stand  upon  the  lovely  plainf 
Gaze  down  upon  the  awful  scenes  they  've  passed 
Rejoicing  that  they've  reached  the  heights  at Tast 

W^  ^^m!  T"^  '^"^  *"'J  fi'"^  <""•''  malily  breast 
n  hT  ""'?  f''r  '""^  "'Pirations  rest;  ^  ' 

it  bids  each  doubt  and  every  shadow  flee 
And  points  them  on  to  certain  victory !    ' 

Wpli  n«~"r"  °  ■■""T'* '  '"^  o"^»*  Yearns  of  light 
■tell  on  a  strange  and  a  romantic  sight,—         ^ 


148 


THE   SURRENDER   OF   QUEBEC. 


On  glistening  helmet  and  on  nodding  crest, 
On  Waving  banner  and  on  steel-clad  breast. 
The  city  woke,  —  but  woke  to  hear  the  cry, 
"  To  arms !  to  arms !  the  foe  —  the  foe  is  nigh ! " 
She  woke  to  hear  the  trumpet's  wild  alarms  — 
She  woke  to  hear  the  sound  of  clashing  arms  — 
She  woke  to  view  her  confidence  removed  — 
She  woke  to  view  ^ler  trusted  safety  proved  ; 
Her  mighty  bulwarks,  long  her'pride  and  boast, 
All  safely  mounted  by  a  British  host  — 
She  woke  to  view  her  lofty  ramparts  yield, 
Her  plains  converted  to  a  battle-field, 
Her  gallant  troops  in  wild  disorder  fly. 
The  British  banner  floating  to  the  sky. 
And  proudly  waving  o'er  the  bloody  plain. 
O'er  heaps  of  dying  and  o'er  heaps  of  slain. 

•      Boused  from  their  hasty  dreams,  with  brows  aghast, 
On  every  hand  the  soldiers  gather  fast. 
Bind  on  their  armor,  seize  the  glittering  sword, 
Form  in  a  line,  and,  at  a  simple  word. 
With  hurried  steps  advance  toward  the  shore, 
With  hasty  gestures  grasp  the  trembling  oar, 
Across  the  river's  bosom  swiftly  glide. 
And  safely  land  upon  the  other  side. 
Drawn  up  in  battle  order  now  they  stand. 
Waiting  in  silence  for  their  chief's  command ; 
Then  onward  move,  with  firm  and  stately  tread, 
With  waving  plumes  and  ensigns  proudly  spread, 
With  gleaming  sword  and  with  uplifted  lance. 
Where  brightly  now  the  glistening  sunbeams  dance ; 
But  long  before  those  sunbeams  shall  decline 
Streams  of  dark  blood  shall  tarnish  all  their  shine; 
Those  beams  shall  strive  to  gild  the  steel  in  vain, 
For  human  gore  the  polished  steel  shall  stain  I 


THE   SURRKNDER   OF   QUEBEC. 


149 


i!" 


aghast, 


id, 


mce; 


line; 
in, 


rrli^Tu-  T'^  ^^^'''  ^^^^  '"°^»  >  ^'th  ardent  glow 
He  shed  his  beamr  alike  o'er  friend  and  foe.     ^ 
His  golden  hues  the  spreading  fields  adorn, 
Waving  m  beauty  with  the  ripening  corn  : 
G^ive  richer  colors  to  the  lofty  trees? 
Ihat  gently  rustle  in  the  morning  breeze  ; 
They  gild  the  river's  surface,  calm  and  blue, 
And  shine  reflected  in  the  sparkling  dew. 

• 

P,  ye,  who  stand  prepared  for  deadly  strife, 
Thirstin::  for  blood  and  for  a  brother's  life. 
-Behold  the  glories  that  around  you  lie, 
Ihe  harmony  pervading  earth  and  sky ! 
Behold  tbe  wondrous  skill  and  power  displayed 
In  every  leaf  and  every  lowly  blade  : 
On  every  hand  behold  the  wondrous  love 

wu    i!"',  '"i"^  ^^^'S"'  ^"  "^^i^«ty  above,— 
Who  bids  for  man  all  nature  sweetly  smile, 
And  sends  his  rain  upon  the  just  and  vile; 
His  attribute  is  love;  and  shall  ye  dare 
lo  take  the  life  mercy  and  love  would  spare  ? 
bhall  ye  destroy  what  he  has  formed  to  live 
And  take  away  what  ye  can  never  give  ? 
bhall  puny  mortal  claim  the  right  his  own 
^elonging  to  Omnipotence  alone  ? 
Rash  man,  forbear  !  and  stay  the  ready  dart 
That  seeks  to  lodge  within  thy  brother's  heart. 
i3ut,  no  ;  tor  mercy's  voice,  now  hushed  and  still. 
No  longer  may  the  steel-clad  bosom  thrill ; 
And  hearts  that  melted  once  at  others'  woe  — 
Ihat  kindled  once  with  friendship's  fervent  glow  - 
That  once  had  felt  and  owned  the  soothing  power 
Of  tender  love  —  are  callous  in  the  hour 
When  savage  A/ar  makes  bare  his  awful  arm. 
ii.nu  ^.eais  lu  tiiunder  tones  his  dread  alarm  ' 
13# 


IT 


^:.  "UJlKiMIl 


150 


THE   SURRENDER    OF   QUEBEC. 


But  there  were  S07ne  in  those  devoted  bands 
O'er  whom  the  blissful  scenes  of  other  lands 
Came  rushing  wildly ;  and,  with  piercing  gaze, 
They  looked  an  instant  on  their  boyhood's  days; 
Keraembered  well  the  hours  that  flew  too  fast ; 
Remembered  some  with  whom  those  hours  were  past ; 
And,  'mid  the  group  of  dear  companions  gay, 
Remembered  well  some  whom  they  saw  that  day  ; 
But  sprang  not  forward,  with  familiar  grasp 
And  friendly  air,  the  proifered  hand  to  clasp  ; 
But  looked  away,  and,  with  a  pang  of  pain, 
Regretted  that  they  e'er  Lad  met  again  ! 
For  now  they  met,  not  as  they  met  before  — 
Not  as  they  used  to  meet  in  days  of  yore ; 
Not  arm  in  arm,  like  brothers  fondly  tried, 
Whom  they  could  trust,  and  in  whose  love  confide ; 
Met  not  as  once,  with  high  and  mutual  aim, 
In  classic  halls  to  seek  for  future  fame ; 
But  met  as  bitter  foes,  in  deadly  strife. 
Each  wildly  panting  for  the  other's  life ; 
With  armies  proud  and  swelling  like  the  lood, 
To  wreath  their  laurels  in  each  other's  blood  ! 

They  once  were  friends ;  but  France  and  England  rose 
In  sounding  arms,  and  they  are  hostile  foes  ! 
They  once  were  friends ;  but  friendship  may  not  shield 
The  warrior's  breast  upon  the  battle-field  ! 
They  once  were  friends ;  but,  hark  !  the  cannon's  roar 
Loudly  proclaims  that  they  are  frionds  no  more ! 
From  rank  to  rank  the  stunning  volley  flies. 
From  rank  to  rank  the  groans  of  anguish  rise ; 
Rank  after  rank  is  numbered  with  the  slain  ; 
Rank  follows  rank,  and  bleeds  upon  the  plain. 


TJ 


rnxToliT 


,Vi- 


U_i.„J 1 


In  human  gore  they  dipped  the  shining  steel ; 


3: 


3  past ; 

ay; 


fide; 


and  rose 
>t  shield 
I's  roar 

3! 


THE   SURRENDEll    OF   QTJEnKC.  151 

Pressed  o'er  the  heaps  of  dying  and  of  dead 

&frm  r^r^^.^'  ^"^  ^a^ant  heroes  bled; 
VVhile  from  their  lips,  m  quick  and  stifled  breath 
Arose  the  ery  of  -  Victory,  or  death  !"  ' 

Louder  and  louder  still  the  awful  roar 

The  vol  eyed  thunder  shook  the  depth"  bo"ow' 
Monntam  and  echoing  forest  joincd^he  ery     ' 
And  distant  h,lls  gave  baek  the  same  reply 
With  animating  voiee  and  waving  Imnd  ^  ^ 

vlff^    \'''f'  "^'^'^  ^'^  gSlant  band, 
Preyed  firmly  forward  where  one  endless  tMe 
Of  woe  and  carnage  roigned  on  every  side    - 
Where  streams  of  blood  in  crimson  torrente  rolled 
Where  death  smote  down  alike  the  young  and  ow'~ 
And  where  the  thickest  poured  the  deadly  shot      ' 
Ihe  gallant  Wolpe  with  daring  valor  fought 

The  dead  and  oying  in  his  pathway  lie. 
Before  h,m  ranks  divide  and  squadrons  Z ; 
With  stalwart  arm,  and  with  unerring  aim 
He  adds  new  glories  to  his  former  fale 
Heaps  the  reward  of  all  his  toil ;  for  no'w 
Fresh  laurels  twine  around  his  youthful  brow 
But  what  aval  they  ?  for  the  fatal  dart 
Of  death  has  lodged  within  that  hoping  hear' ' 
The  lof^  head,  that  wore  the  wavin.  crest      " 
Now  sadly  droops  upon  the  bleedinXal'- 

Fait  ri"!'^/™'  "P™'^^'' '»  P^'^-'r  andpride 
Falls  feebly  down,  and  oasts  its  sword  aside 

Th_e  laurel  wreath  entwines  that  brow  in  vai^. 
-^  V*,  iu ;  me  nero  iies  among  the  slain  ! 


152 


THE   SURRENDER    OF   QUEBEC. 


Wkh'i!!r'^  ^'"^^*  ^°".S'  ^^^'^  ^°"^^g«  a»<l  With  Skill; 

With  iron  arms  and  with  an  iron  will 
Kushed  bravely  forward  'mid  the  battle's  din, 
Resolved  to  die,  or  else  the  victory  win  : 
Like  soldiers  true  fought  firmly  and  fought  well, 
And  at  their  post  like  faithful  soldiers  fell. 

Deeper  and  deeper  now  the  conflict  grows  • 
Despair  nerves  these,  and  victory  flush!  tho^e. 
1  IS  the  last  struggle ;  hark  !  "  They  fly  !  they  fly  » » 

1  IS  the  last  struggle,  for  the  beating  drum 
Proclaims  the  conflict  o'er,  the  victory  won. 
Ihe  J^rench  m  wild  dismay  and  horror  vield 
And  leave  the  British  masters  of  the  field.   ' 

Far  in  the  rear  a  dying  warrior  lay, 
While  from  his  breast  the  life-blood  ebbed  away: 
Attendants  bent  around  to  stanch  the  tide         ^ 
Tl^t  flowed  m  torrents  from  his  wounded  side; 
V\  ith  wild  convijlsions  came  each  panting  breath. 
And  those  proud  features  wore  the  hue  of  death 
His  hps  were  sealed,  his  beaming  eyes  were  dim 
And  strangely  quivered  every  oStst^retcLd  limb ' 
Unconscious  now  he  seemed  of  love  or  hate        ' 
Unconscious  now  his  spirit  seemed  to  wait    ' 
Ihe  awful  summons  that  should  bid  it  fly 
lo  worlds  unknown,  unseen  by  human  eye. 
He  seemed  like  one  already  with  the  dead  ; 
When  lo  !  he  started  ~  raised  his  drooping  head  • 
Wit^h  dying  hand  he  grasped  his  trusty  blade         ' 
With  kindling  eye  th    battle-field  surveyedV 
Heard  the  triumphant  shout,  "  They  run  '  tLv  n.n  i »» 

w         J3 ;  .^.svi  iivi-u  iips  upart. 


ill 


THE  SURRENDER  OF  QUEBEC.        153 

"The  French!  the  French  !  "_„o  .nore  that  warrior 
It  was  enough  for  him,  that  single  word  : 

P.II  flu  " 'rf*^  •'  I  *°^  ^'^  y°"'l>ful  held 
Fell  feebly  back;  the  noble  soul  had  fled. 

O,  gallant  Wolfe  !  from  o'er  the  dark  blue  sea 
There  comes  a  wail -a  bitter  wail  for  thee 
Thy  country  mourns  her  warrior,  true  and^'rave 

But  „^nT"'«  '"'^  "''P'  "'''  ">y  lowly  grave.    ' 
But  nothing  now  may  break  thy  tranquil  rest 
No  h.„g  d,sturb  thy  calm  and  q^uiet  ^ZT 
Nor  clash.ng  arms,  nor  cannon's  deafening  roar 
Nor  sorrow's  wail,  may  ever  rouse  thee  mir  ' 

?h?li  T^r^u^  ^''^'"''  ^"  '"'"'«'  t'-an  them  aT 
Shall  bid  thee  rise,  thou  must  obey  the  cat 

And  stand,  bereft  of  earthly  pride  and  power 

Before  thy  Judge.    God  shield  thee  in  thalhour ! 

Remoter  from  the  scene,  with  drooping  head 
And  nerveless  arm,  another  warrior  bled! 
^eahs  seal  upon  that  pallid  brow  was  pressed  • 

B^f  ',F  ^"^  '7  ""  *'"''  ''«^^i''g  breast;  ' 

TootTr^''  °  •  T'^'fy  '«■>'  noloothing'balm 
To  cheer  the  spirit  of  the  proud  Montcalm 

He  ived  to  see  his  bravest  followers  die ;    " 
He  1  ved  to  see  his  troops  disbanded  fly; 

A^d  r,r  ^'-^  '"  !'^"'  ''"'  welcomed  death, 
t  .T  5  f.™'^  '■^^'g"^'!  his  floetiuK  breath  • 
Stretched  his  proud  limbs,  without  a!igh  or  ' 
And  Death  had  claimed  the  hero  for  h£  own         ' 

T1,T^\^'''^*  u"f  ?'"'  "•«  •J'^adful  combat  past  • 
The  echoing  hills  had  found  repose  at  last-        ' 

A    J    *-'"  "  """^  '-'^■"^  ^"»  vvorK  oil  every  side 

And  even  greedy  Death  was  satisfied  •    ' 


154 


THE  SURRENDER   OF  QUEBEC. 


The  sun  went  down  ;  how  changed  from  yester  night ! 
How  changed  his  aspect,  and  how  changed  the  sight* 
On  which  he  gazed  !     Then  his  last  golden  beam 

1  ell  on  a  landscape  fair  —  a  quiet  scene 

Where  now  destruction  reared  its  standard  dread 
O'er  shattered  bodies  and  o'er  severed  head. 

Heap  upon  heap  the  pallid  victims  lay, 
Of  racking  pain  and  scorching  thirst  the'prey ; 
In  anguish  rolled  upon  the  bloody  ground, 
And  wider  still  they  tore  each  gaping  wound; 
In  concert  joined  their  agonizing  <  ries, 
Gnashed  with  their  teeth  and  rolled  their  blood-shot 
eyes; 

With  feeble  groans  they  drew  each  painful  breath, 
And  racked  with  torments  called  aloud  for  death  • 
Far  o'er  the  field  in  wild  confusion  rose 
Piles  of  the  ghastly  dead  -  of  friends  and  foes  — 
In  death  stretched  side  by  side,  mangled  and  cold ; 
While  over  all  the  sulphurous  war-clouds  rolled, 
In  dark,  dense  columns  mounted  up  on  high, 
Tainting  the  air,  polluting  all  the  sky. 

Quebec  was  won ;  and  o'er  each  lofty  tower 
The  British  banner  streamed  in  pride  and  power  • 
Where  the  French  eagle  once  her  wings  had  spread 
Ihe  Uritish  lion  reared  his  haughty  head, 
And  shook  the  conquered  country  with  his  roar; 
The  eagle  flew  in  terror  from  the  shore. 
With  drooping  plumage  skimmed  the  western  main 
And   trembling,  sought  her  native  France  again  ; 
While  England,  proud  and  potent,  took  the  sway 
And  waved  her  sceptre  over  Canada. 


er  night ! 
ihe  sight 
t)cam 

Iread 


*y; 


blood-shot 

reath, 
Bath! 

bes  — 
cold ; 
!ed, 


r 

ver; 

spread 

ar; 

main, 
in; 


THE    OLD    INDIAN. 


Thnf         ?1*^S"'  ^^^^  t^ose  locks  so  erav 
That  round  thy  furrowed  temples  pluy  ?^    ^ 
Who  art  thou,  with  that  faded  cheek 
That  clouded  eve  ?—  finnot   ..  ' 

^y^  ^— -speak,  stranger,  speak." 

"  ^Jas :  proud  youth,  these  locks  of  min« 

ThTs  f7  ^''!  t'^''  ^''  '^'^  thine, 
This  furroTv^^d  brow  was  once  as  fair 

As  the  bright  hopes  that  rested  thore  • 

As  the  first  beams  of  morning  lilt  • 
These  almost  sightless  orbs  could^v  J 
In  lustre  with  the  eagle's  eye." 

Thv^rS''*^^  r^"'  '°""^«  hoarse  and  low 
^y  trembling  hmbs  too  plainly  show 

i  hy  earthly  days  are  almost  done !  " 

A^i^^^'-^^^^'^^et  once  this  tone, 

ro„l^'  '"^.f '"^^  ^^  *^^««  own,    ' 
Could  cause  the  stoutest  form  to  ^tart 
And  strike  its  terrors  to  the  heart,      ' 
When  loud  upon  the  midnight  stil 
The  war-whoop  rose  from  den  .n^  k;ii 

xais  ieebie  form  has  often  been" "'* 

Ihe  foremost  in  the  battle's  din  • 


r 


i«IN 


150 


Tin-:   OLD    INDIAN. 


This  trembling  hand  could  bravely  wield 
The  bow  upon  the  battle-field  ; 
But  all  those  youthful  days  have  past, 
And  I,  like  them,  am  fleeing  fast." 

"  Stranger,  pray  tell  me  what  your  name, 
And  what  the  race  from  whence  you  came ; 
And  why  you  wander  here  alone, 
So  aged  and  so  feeble  grown." 

"  Proud  youth,  my  name  would  cause  thy  heart 
In  throbbings  wild  and  high  to  start ; 
For  oft  thy  fathers  thou  iiast  heard 
Breathe  forth  that  deeply  hated  word ; 
Fall  often  thou  hast  heard  them  speak, 
With  kindling  eye  and  glowing  cheek, 

Of  one  who  swore  in  childhood's  days 

At  midnight,  'neath  the  moon's  pale  rays, 
On  bended  knee,  with  upraised  hand. 

While  round  him  stood  a  swarthy  band 

That,  till  the  lamp  of  life  grew  dim, 
And  age  should  make  a  wreck  of  him. 
Or  death  itself  should  lay  him  low, 
He  'd  show  no  mercy  to  his  foe ; 
But  joyfully  listen  to  his  moans, 
Find  music  in  the  white  man's  groans ; 
No  trophies,  save  the  white  man's  head. 
No  joy,  save  when  the  white  man  bled ; 
And  no  revenge,  for  wrongs  he  bore. 
Save  hands  dipped  in  the  white  man's  gore ! 

"  And  faithfully  he  kept  the  vow 
Breathed  forth  upon  the  mountain's  brow, 
Till  far  around  he  won  the  name, 
The  chief  of  blood,  —  the  chief  of  flame !  — 


wiold 
ist, 

ur  name, 
u  came ; 


luse  thy  heart 

t; 

rd; 
lak, 

ys  — 
rays, 

ind  — 

!m. 


is; 
3ad, 
^d  • 

's  gore ! 


brow, 
lame !  — 


THB  OLD  INDUN. 

What  is  my  race?    Ask  of  the  wood 
Where  once  my  little  wigwam  stood, 

But  now,  where  lofty  cities  rise 
And  point  their  turret!  to  the  skies. 
What  IS  my  race?     Ask  of  the  sod 
Which  drank  a  father's  flowing  blood; 
Ask  of  the  graves  that  wrap  the  cTaj 

And  1       •  ^"''  ""^''^  ''  "^y  race, 
And  where  is  now  their  dwelling-pkce  ! 

"  My  race  was  once,  in  ^.c-or  and  might. 
The  strongest  ,n  the  cha  e  or  k,\t  •        ^ 
The  proudest  clan  that «  vv/  dre^. 
Ihe  fatal  bow,  or  arrow  ihr.>w: 
But  now,  forgetful  of  tbei.  ,jride, 
They  ve  cast  those  fatal  bows  aside, 
And  serpent^  m  their  folds  embrace 
The  ashes  of  that  fallen  race  ! 
^y  *'u^?;  f  ^  o^^er  tribes  before. 
First  hailed  the  white  man  to  this  shore; 

They  gave  to  him  the  friendly  hand;       ' 

Thev  IZl  .-"^  rr''  '°  '^^'  «^»  ^and; 
Ihey  gave  hiir.  liberty  to  take 

Wilin  r'*i'''  T^'^  ^'^  ^^-^"^  *^«ir  lake; 
Knf]      aI ^''''^'  save  him  a  place. 
And  loved  him  as  their  own  dark  race ! 

A  \  ^"n  '?°?  *^®  ^^"g^*3^  white  man  rose 
And  called  the  Indian  his  foes ;  ' 

He  burned  their  wigwams  to  the  ground 
Scattered  the  ashes  far  .round  • 
He  slew  their  mothers,  and  their  wives, 
Theirjhildren,  dearer  than  their  lives;' 
^^;.  wxiuru  meir  nappy  homes  once  stood 
Were  scenes  of  murder  and  of  blood  — 
14  * 


167 


f 


■i  J». 


15a 


THE  OLD   INDIAN. 


While  everywhere  arose  the  cry, 
Wafted  from  Indian  lips  on  high, 
♦  Revenge,  revenge ! '  and  all  that  heaid 
Would  echo  back  that  frightful  word. 

"  But  now  each  thrilling  voice  is  still  — 
The  war-whoop  hushed  upon  the  hill ; 
For  those  who  burned  for  vengeance  then 
Now  moulder  in  the  silent  glen ; 
And  proudly  now  the  white  man  treads 
Upon  the  soil  above  their  heads. 
That  noble  race  have  passed  away, 
And  one  by  one  mixed  with  the  clay, 
Till  I  the  last  of  all  am  left, 
Of  brother,  friend  and  home  bereft ; 
And  soon  my  pilgrimage  will  close, 
And  the  poor  Indian  find  repose. 

"  Thou  askest  why  I  wander  here, 
No  friend  and  no  companion  near ;  — 
But  ask  the  dove  why  yet  she  clings, 
With  weary  head  and  drooping  wings, 
Unto  her  fallen  partner's  side, 
And  loves  him  still,  although  he  died ; 
Or,  ask  her  why,  when  far  removed 
From  the  dear  home  she  fondly  loved. 
Where  she  has  reared  her  tender  young. 
Round  which  her  yearning  heart  has  clung  - 
Why  when  released  she  quickly  flies 
With  steadfast  wing  and  e?vger  eyes, 
Until  she  gain  that  lovely  spot, 
Her  native  home,  her  o\\  a  dove-cot ;  — 
Then  may  ye  know  why  I  have  come 
From  regions  toward  the  setting  sun !  — 
It  is  to  tread  jnce  more  the  sod 
Which  I  in  youth  have  lightly  trod  .' 


TUE   OLD   INDIAN. 


159 


It  is  to  seek  once  more  to  find 
Whirr  'Tl!"^'^  ""  "^y  '"ind, 

It  IS  to  drop  the  sacred  tear, 
To  love  and  to  affection  dear - 
rho  tear  which  memory  ever  craves- 
Upon  mj  fathers'  lowly  graves 

Where  father,  mother,  brother  sleeo- 
Where  sisters  lie,  dear  as  my  life    '^ 
And  she  my  fair  and  faithful  wife 
Dearer  than  all  the  world  beside    ' 
Who  by  the  white  man's  weapon   died- 
And  ohldren,  twined  around  my  hmt 
With  t,es  that  death  couW  r^ver  p^t 
It  IS  to  gaze  upon  this  pis.  .,^''''' 
?„7,">  ^f  i-g  of  mS  race. 
And  then  to  lay  ray  weary  heid 
Upon  the  ashes  of  the  dead - 
B^sip  my  soul,  without  a  sigh, 

To  that  great  God  who  rules  on  high 
And  make  complete  the  fallen  race 
That  slumbers  in  this  narrow  place  '  " 
And  as  he  spoke,  his  cheek  gW!,ale~ 
His  trembling  voice  began  tol^r  ^     ' 
His  eye  grew  dim,  his  lips  compressed 
His  hoary  head  drooped  o'er  his  S- 
And  there  he  slept  in  death's  emba^f:. 
The  last  one  of  his  noble  race ! 


I! 


THE   HUSBAND^S   LAMENT. 


Yes,  thou  art  lovely  still !  and  yet  so  calm, 
So  pale,  so  cold,  I  shudder  as  I  gaze. 
Yes,  thou  art  lovely  still;  but,  0,  how  changed! 
Thy  lips  are  silent ;  and  the  beaming  eye. 
In  which  I  once  could  read  thy  gentle  thoughts, 
Is  frozen  o'er  with  death.     And  is  this  all 
That 's  left  of  one  I  loved,  and  loved  so  well? 
Is  this  the  hand,  so  cold  and  deathlike  grown, 
I  've  often  clasped,  once  warm  with  life  and  love  ? 
Is  that  the  brow  I  oft  have  crowned  with  flowers? 
Are  those  the  lips  that  ever  spoke  to  bless  ? 

0,  Death !  could'st  thou  not  choose  one  less  beloved, 
And  one  less  loving  —  one  less  fair  and  good  — 
That  thus  thou  takest  all  I  loved  on  earth  ? 
Others  have  friends ;  but  I  —  /  had  but  one ; 
But  one  to  weep  when  o'er  my  troubled  soul 
The  billows  of  despair  rolled  huge  and  dark ; 
But  one  to  whisper  words  of  peace  and  hope ; 
But  one  to  soothe  the  raging  storm  to  rest. 
That  one  is  now  no     ore  —  gone,  gone,  for  aye  — 
And  I  am  left  alone.    Alone  —  alone ! 
O,  how  that  word  falls  on  my  bursting  heart ! 
The  wide,  wide  world  is  all  before  me  now, 
But  not  a  friend  —  not  one  to  weep  for  me. 
Then,  welcome  death  i  —  with  heart  ail  bared 
I  hail  the  fatal  dart !     B\it,  ah,  death  never  comes 


THE  HUSBAND'S  LAMENT. 


161 


When  most  desired !   The  onlv  nn«  t  i      j 
Unto  a  world  of  light  and  endlel  Wit       ^^''' 

The  Jntle  heartf  Jhl\  Ve:v!d  i^t'r™:^ " 
And  what  a  thoueht'  for  mv  7         ""^  ^^''^~ 

Is  bounding  high  with  Z7J      '^"?'"  ^'^''^~ 
And  while^I  bt^ZiV^ylC  '"'"'  '■ 
And  press  the  lips  that  give  no  .     !!' 
f  "V""  «•-«  bu^rning  ,aTon°h"  pale^er' 

Onhine  own  Son.l".^  JoltSTw^t 
Safe  in  th^/oi'o-nToTtl^'&llt::^  «3'- 

?:st"„:t;^:^:^:if.^'?-»:?^h^here. 

ihe  storm  ma>  ™|e  withia-thT/S  ^f  S, 


162 


THE  HUSBAND  S   LAMENT. 


But  never  harm  tHee  more.     0,  as  I  gaze 
Upon  thee  now,  and  know  that  thou  art  blest, 
I  half  forget  my  own  despair  and  woe. 
And  half  rejoice  to  think  that  thou  art  gone !  — 
Rejoice  a  moment ;  but  the  next  I  weep. 
Where  shall  I  turn,  or  whither  shall  I  flee  ? 
Despair  has  chained  me  fast.    Yes,  thou  art  blest, 
But  I  am  wretched.     Can  I  give  thee  up  ? 
What !  see  thee  laid  within  the  silent  tomb. 
To  moulder  there  ?  and  hear  the  cold,  damp  earth 
Thrown  on  thy  cofl5in-lid  ?  and  know  that  thou 
Art  mingling  with  the  dust,  my  love,  my  all? — 
The  thought  is  agony  —  it  cannot  be ! 
The  future  !  O,  the  future !  dark  and  drear, 
As  when  the  thunder-clouds  loom  o'er  the  sky, 
And  shed  their  burden  on  the  midnight  air 
Of  hail  and  tempest.    Thus  't  will  ever  be ; 
And  such  the  past  had  been,  but  for  one  star. 
That  o'er  the  dark  horizon  brightly  rose. 
And  with  her  radiant  light  dispersed  the  clouds, 
And  rolled  away  the  darkness  and  the  gloom. 
That  star  has  set  —  forever  set  on  earth ; 
But  shines  immortal  in  the  diadem 
That  Clowns  our  Saviour's  brow  !    And  now  I  gaze 
In  all  the  darkness  round  for  one  bright  beam  ; 
But  gaze  in  vain.     As  in  a  dungeon  bound, 
Light,  hope,  and  love,  shut  out  tbrevermore, 
So  stand  I  here ;  and  so  my  path  must  be 
Where  sun,  nor  moon,  nor  star,  can  ever  shine  ! 


I 


^1  I 


u 


And  yet  her  cold,  her  clay-cold  form  is  here. 
Sad  comforter  indeed !     But  comes  the  hour 
When  this  last  solace  will  be  borne  away. 
And  borne  away  forever  to  the  tomb ! 
When  yonder  sun  shall  seek  his  western  home 
Behind  the  hills  where  we  have  often  strayed, 


THE  HCSBAND'a  tAMENI. 


163 


mat  pallid  face  still  beautiful  in  death, 
Will  be  forevo.  hidden  from  my  gaze; 
And  I  shall  stand  within  this  quitt  room 
Alone !   Or  if  I  seek  the  murn^uring  st"am 

fl  r,r  ''»^«''f?n- there  I  shall' stand  alone  • 
Or  .n  the  open  fields,  when  night  eomes  on  " 

W  th  ^-w'^T''  ''"f^right  the  ether  glows 
Anf  .Kf  -T.'  V- T  '"  fr""  *•''«  throne  of  God 

Th!i  {  *^at  once  was  music  to  thine  ear  — 

Y^Z  f       "  n'""''  "'""^  •'  «•  bitter  thought ' 
Years  may  roll  on,  and  yet  we  meet  no  more 
Years  may  roll  on,  but  memory  will  prortree- 
Too  true;  for  she  will  rack  my  buminrbrair 
And  she  will  pierce  my  bleeding  healith  darts 
That  t,me  can  never  draw;  for^she  will  speafc  ^• 
At  morn  at  noon,  at  eve,  of  days  gone  bv  • 
And  ,n  the  dreary  watches  of  the  night,  ^  ' 
When  others  sleep,  in  thunder  tones  she  -11  sneak 
The  name  I  loved -and  all  the  past  will  come 

Tossed  like  a  bark  upon  the  roaring  deep 
W.1  heave  and  plunge  adown  the  dark  ^byss, 
Anu,  buried  m  the  waters  of  despair,       ^ 
Will  he  a  hopeless  wreck.    I  see  thee  here. 
Cold,  pale,  and  s.lent ;  and  the  deadly  bro^, 

Th!  TTf  f'^^'  ""  '""  "°  ofthe  grave - 

1  he  dark,  dark  grave,  where  thou  so  Son  must  ba  < 

And  then  emotions  wild  and  fearful  sween  " 

Across  my  bosom -and,  beneath  the  bla^t. 

^,  ii»„  a  uruseu  iued,  bend,  and  1  fall 

And  when  I  see  thee  as  thou  wast,  my  friend. 


I'll    <i  i 


SI 


164 


TEE  HUSBANP'a   LAMENT. 


I  " 


My  only  fvi-^td  —  the  partner  of  my  woes  — 
And  think    nis  clay  is  all  that 's  left  of  thee, 
Then  reason  struggles  with  the  fearful  storm, 
And  struggles  ali  in  vain ;  T  madly  rage. 
But  when  I  see  thee,  loved  one,  as  thou  art, 
An  angel  bright  in  yonder  r'^alms  of  bliss, 
Then  I  grow  calm,  and  o'er  sny  troubled  soul 
There  comes  a  soothing  voice  —  it  sound  a  like  thine. 
It  whispers  of  a  meeting !  •— Strance  tl?^  power 
Those  few  short  words  posi3epp,    '  We  :<r\i'  i  again! 
And  shall  we  meet?     Father  in  heaven,  forgWe 
ThiB?  erring  child,  whr,  in  the  b>.ur  of  woo, 
Ha?5  m«rraar.' ji  ^t  thy  i  ealings !  —  they  are  Just 
And  in  thy  w.dmu  mercy,  and  thy  love, 
Thou  hast  affliciUu  i'    .  and  ►>orne  away 
The  idol  I  had  r^uutd,  jjtsd  in  thy  stead 
Placed  in  mj  hensrt  I    Foi  give  me,  0,  forgive, 
That  1  in  serrow'y  hour  ahould  thus  forget 
The  only  source  of  comfort  and  of  peace  ! 
And  henceforth,  Father,  may  my  guilty  soul, 
Washed  m  the  atoning  blood  of  thy  dear  Son, 
Place  all  its  trust  in  thee,  and  thee  alone ! 
And  when  tbe  summons  come,  and  I  too  sleep, 
(trant  me  a  home  and  an  eternal  rest 
In  the  bright  world  of  everlasting  bliss. 
Where  my  beloved  folds  her  shining  wings ! 
And  when  the  morn,  the  long-expected  morn, 
Shall  dawn  in  glory,  and  the  saints  shall  rise 
From  their  dark  icy  beds,  then  may  I  too. 
With  this  cold  form  I  now  resign  to  earth. 
Come  forth  immortal,  and  with  her  ascend 
To  hail  thee  as  my  Saviour,  and  my  King ! 


m- 


re, 


rt, 

5u! 

like  thine. 

•ower 

;  again! 

brg^ve 

^» 

re  iast ; 


» »» 


give, 

oul, 

Son, 
I 

sleep, 


orD, 
rise 

0, 

1>. 
id 


THE  CONTRAST. 


And  oft  from  Xrln?  fu**  '"  8'°"""  >' 
For  SuCeStr,^''.::  S^  ^-'"^  "^  '<'« 

The  storm  grew  still  darker,  and  darker  »K.  u 

And  aow„.:sx:-p-t^^^^^^^^ 


160 


THE  CONTRAST. 


I     :! 

i 


A  bright,  happy  group  were  gathering  fast, 
With  smiles  and  gay  sallies  of  mirth. 

The  tempest  might  howl  and  the  elements  roar  — 
To  that  group  they  could  bring  no  alarm ;  ^ 

For  a  charm  spread  its  magical  wand  them  o  er, 
And  wealth,  boundless  wealth,  was  that  charm  ! 

But,  hark !  as  the  winds  in  their  fury  arise, 

A  voice  is  heard  to  implore, 
With  bitter— ay,  bitter  and  heart-rendmg  cries, 

T'hat  the  rich  man  may  open  his  door. 

"  O,  chill  blows  the  blast  o'er  my  shivering  form, 

And  floods  or  my  weary  head  pour  ! 
O,  give  me  .  shelter,  a  shield  from  the  storm; 

Take  pity,  and  open  your  door !  " 

«  What  seek  you?  "  the  lordly  man  sternly  replied, 
While  a  frown  hung  his  haughty  brow  o'er ; 

But  still  the  same  voice  of  deep  agony  cried, 
«« Take  pity,  and  open  your  door ! 

"  0,  give  me,  0,  give  me  a  shelter  to-night. 
For  my  heart  is  full  weary  and  sore ;         ^ 

And  the  storm  rages  fiercely  around  me  to-mght— 
Show  mercy,  and  open  the  door !  " 

The  rich  man  gazed  coldly  upon  her  pale  brow, 

And  features  so  mournful  and  fair ;         ,        ^.       » 

Then  muttering,  "  My  roof  shelters  not  such  as  thou. 
He  left  the  petitioner  there. 

Still  wilder  and  wilder  the  tempest  now  grew, 
The  aspect  more  threatening  high ; _ 

But  over  "them  all  —  though  the  winds  louaiy  m&w  — 
There  arose  one  heart-piercing  cry. 


THE  CONTRAST. 


187 


The  rich  man  returned,  with  self-satisfied  air, 

10  his  seat  by  the  fire  once  more; 
And  the  poor,  homeless  wanderer,  breathing  a  prayer. 

Turned  away  from  the  rich  man's  door.         ^^    ' 

^%\rTf '  ^"^  *^^  «^^*^  anniversary  came 
Vt  that  day  of  anguish  so  sore. 

When  the  wanderer,  fainting  and  drenched  with  the 
ram. 

Was  spurned  from  the  rich  man's  door. 

The  day  was  as  stormy  and  cloudy  as  then  — 

*or  the  wind  and  the  rain  no  repose; 
iiut  from  a  sweet  cottage  adown  in  the  glen 

A  song  of  thanksgiving  arose. 

By  the  fire,  that  blazed  so  brightly  and  high. 

Sat  a  man  m  his  youthful  pride. 
With  a  noble  brow  and  a  dark  beaming  eye. 

And  a  dearly  loved  one  by  his  side. 

And  truly  his  fond  manly  bosom  was  blessed. 

As  he  gazed  on  that  cherished  one's  charms. 
And  then  with  a  father's  devotion  caressed 

Ihe  sweet  infant  that  played  in  her  arms. 

The  tempests  might  howl  and  the  elements  roar— 
lo  that  group  they  could  bring  no  alarm  ; 

*or  a  charm  spread  its  magical  wand  them  o'er, 
And  love,  boundless  love,  was  that  charm! 

But,  hark  .'while  the  rain  in  floods  is  descending. 

And  loudly  the  howling  winds  roar, 
A  voice  is  heard  with  the  elements  blending : 

"  Take  pity,  and  open  your  door ! 

"  ^A  ^^  ^^^^^  *^®  ^^^^  °"  ^y  shivering  form, 
And  cold  blows  tue  blast  o'er  the  moor ! 


F" 


-i    -M 


168 


lUJi  CONTRAST. 


O,  give  in3  a  shelter,  a  shield  from  the  storm ; 
Show  Di(  rcy,  and  open  your  door !  " 

With  pitying  he         .  paspionate  eye. 

More  tender  lud  bright  than  before, 
The  young  marj  arose,  as  he  listed  the  cry, 

And  hastily  opened  the  door. 

"  Thrice  welcome,  thou  stranf  p  ,  :«  ot.^  j  Dwiy  home ! 

'T  wiU  shield  thee  at  least  from  the  storm ;  " 
And  he  led  in  a  wanderer  wretched  and  lone, 

Wittt  trembling  and  ill-clad  form. 

Witl  a  prayer  on  her  lips  of  grateful  devotion, 

A  prayer  such  as  angels  admire. 
The  wiit)  welcomed  him  with  heartfelt  emotion, 

And  gave  liim  her  seat  by  the  fire. 

The  stranger  grew  paler  as  he  beiield  her, 
And  tears  rolled  his  furrowed  cheeks  o'er ; 

"Tint  face  !    hat  face  !  ah  !  too  well  I  remember, 
She  was  spurood  from  the  rich  man's  door  I  " 


X1 


THE  MINSTREL'S  S0N6. 

And  gjlds  the  summit  of  the  ^11  ' 

J£M,  O,  bow  calm,  ht    fair  and  still 

Thl  2*^^^"^  *  ^y  *°<^  thoughtless  bov 
The  future  hope,  the  present  joy, 
He  river's  banks  I  roamed  aloni 
^n  my  ]ps  the  happy  song  r^' 

J^i  every    ower,  m  every  tree .' 

Jomehowmu.ealeachtone! 
Mv  t    1/  ,¥^  communion  sweet  ; 

Tn  a,vj  "J'  "*"^»  my  spir        ared 
io  God,  and  worshipped  and  adored. 

And?;ttj?i^  of  innoceuce  and  bliss! 
And  art  thou  brought  at  last  to  this  ? 
T^at  every  tree  and  every  flower 
Seems  to  posses,  some  secret  nn«.. 

10 


c 


170 


i 


THE   MINSTIIEI/S   BONO. 

And  every  soft  and  gentle  breeze 
That  sighs  among  the  fragrant  trees 
Whispers, '  Beware !  beware  !  thy  patH 
Leads  to  eternal  woo  and  wrath ! ' 
O,  child  of  Wins !  and  can  it  bo 
That  I,  the  V    ie  and  vile,  am  he  ? 

"The  past,  the  past,  could  tears  recall, 
O,  how  the  burning  rain  would  fall ! 
Conld  drops  of  blood  wash  out  the  stain, 
And  make  mc  innocent  again, 
How  freely  would  the  life-stream  pour!  — 
But,  no,  —  't  is  useless,  —  all  is  o'er ! 
Farewell,  then,  hope  !  welcome  despair. 
What  should  I  fear  to  do  or  dare?  — 
Wake,  Minstrel,  wake  the  slumbering  lyre. 
If  thou  canst  quench  the  raging  fire 
That  burns  ray  heart."    The  Minstrel  came, 
With  hoary  locks  and  stooping  frame. 

"  Beneath  the  cool  and  grateful  shade, 
Where  soft  the  breezes  blow. 
With  beaming  eye  and  noble  mien, 
A  stranger  form  was  often  seen, 
A  long  time  ago ! 

"To  him  the  earth  was  dark  and  drear; 
And  doomed  to  want  and  woe, 
Without  a  shelter  or  a  home. 
That  lonely  stranger  used  to  roam, 
A  long  time  ago ! 

«» B^viled  and  hated  by  the  world, 
On  every  hand  a  foe. 
He  passed  along  with  smiling  face, 

A  long  time  ago ! 


THE   MINSTREL'd   80N(I.  17X 

••The  poor  and  needy,  filled  with  grief 
No  human  heart  might  know, 
With  tearful  eye  pressed  to  liis  side, 
And  found  there  every  want  supplied, 
A  long  time  ago  ! 

"  ^  WL?'.^^  *^**  mourned  o'er  deeds  of  iniilt. 
While  burning  tears  would  flow. 
And  looked  with  anguish  on  the  past, 
In  him  found  sweet  repose  at  last, 
A  long  time  ago ! 

"  And  some  —  their  parents'  hope  and  prido, 

Jiut  now  their  parents'  woe 

Gazed  on  the  stranger's  loving  face, 
Rushed  to  the  stranger's  fond  embrace, 

A  long  time  ago ! 

"He  died  — the  gentle  stranger  died 
A  death  of  shame  and  woe  • 
But  in  that  hour  of  pain  and  grief  • 

Forgave  the  wretched,  dying  thief, 
A  long  time  ago ! 

"  ^  wl^.,*°  *^®  °^°^'  —  *^e  c"»el  cross,  ^ 
While  shouts  arose  below  : 

♦Forgive  them,  O,  forgive  ! '  he  cried. 

Ihen  bowed  his  aching  head  and  died, 

A  long  time  ago ! 

"  Death  held  the  stranger's  ghastly  form 
But  held  a  mortal  foe  ;  ' 

For  soon  he  left  the  scer.e  of  gloom, 
And  rose  triumphant  o'er  the  tomb! 
A  long  time  ago ! 


w 


V 


172  THE  minstrel's  song. 

"  He  left  tbe  mountain's  dazzling  brow, 
Then  tinged  with  heavenly  glow ; 
While  angels  worshipped  at  his  feet, 
At  God's  right  hand  he  took  his  seat, 
A  long  time  ago  ! 

"  He 's  pleading  now  for  sinful  men  — 
He  knows  their  want  and  woe  — 
As  when  he  sadly  wandered  here, 
Wiping  away  each  falling  tear, 
A  long  time  ago  ! 

»« He  loves  the  guilty  sinner  yet, 
As  when  he  roamed  below  j 
He  pities  him  as  freely  still 
As  when  he  died  on  Calvary's  hill, 
A  long  time  ago  ! 

"  0,  wretched  youth  !  thy  soul  is  dark ; 

Thou  hast  been  long  his  foe ; 
But  raise  thine  eyes,  thy  Saviour  see  j 
Remember  that  he  died  for  thee, 

A  long  time  ago  ! 

"  'Thy  sins  are  many ! '  —  hark !  he  crieb. 
As  once  he  cried  below,  — 
*  But  wash  away  thy  guilty  stains, 
In  blood  for  thee  drawn  from  my  veins, 
A  long  time  ago ! '  " 

The  Minstrel  ceased.     The  youth  had  given 
One  look  of  agony  to  heaven, 
And  while  the  burning  tears  would  flow. 
Blessed  him  who  died  so  long  ago. 


TWILIGHT   MUSINGS, 


Tisthepeacefiil  twilight  hour- 
Let  us  haste  to  yonder  bower,  ' 
^J  the  gently  flowing  stream, 

Lit  up  by  the  sun's  last  beam; 
Where  the  soft  and  balmy  breeze 
Sighs  among  the  waving  trees, 
And  the  flowers  of  ev'ry  hue, 
Crimson,  yellow,  white  and  blue, 
C  ust«r  round  the  fair  retreat, 
Where  we  often  used  to  meet, 
Ann  m  arm,  at  close  of  day, 
While  the  robin's  cheerful  lay 
Borne  upon  the  evening  air, 
-bchoed  sweetly  round  us  there. 
And  our  hearts  beat  warm  and  hiVh 
And  the  love-light  in  each  eye     ^  ' 
*ound  repose  within  each  breast. 
Happy  days !  how  bright  and  blest ' 

Bnghter  now  since  paft  and  gone 
With  our  youth's  delightful  dawn  : 
Dearer  now  since  they  have  fled 
With  the  loved,  the  early  dead 

In  whose  Horrow  and  whose  care. 

In  whose  joys  we  used  lo  share. 

-Dear  ones  !  they  have  sunk  to  re«f  • 

-iiicjr  ure  nappy,  they  are  blest.  '"' 
15* 


•mmBmmmim 


I 


174 


I  J  \ 


I'  r 


|i 


TWILIGHT  MUSINGS. 

In  the  world  of  light  above, 
In  the  world  of  peace  and  love ; 
And  though  sad  and  lonely  here, 
Shall  we  shed  for  them  a  tear? 
No ;  for  they,  with  beaming  brow, 
Round  the  throne  of  glory  bow, 
Like  the  angels  pure  and  free, 
Bright  as  they !  —  0,  when  shall  we 
Share  this  homo  and  share  this  bliss, 
Far  from  such  a  world  as  this  ? 

Now  the  lonely  orb  of  night 
Sheds  her  soft  and  mellow  light 
Over  hill  and  over  dell  — 
Scenes  that  we  have  loved  so  well ; 
And  the  quiet  evening  star 
Gazes  on  us  from  afar, 
Just  the  same  as  years  ago  ; 
And  the  sleeping  stream  below. 
Silvered  o'er  with  shining  rays, 
Just  as  in  our  childhood's  days ; 
And  the  island  lulled  to  sleep 
Where  the  playful  waters  sweep ; 
And  the  distant  mountain  blue 
Piled  with  clouds  of  ev'ry  hue  ; 
And  the  forest,  dark  and  green, 
Adding  grandeur  to  the  scene  ; 
All  remind  us  of  the  past  — 
Of  the  hours  that  flew  too  fast, 
Of  the  hopes  and  of  the  fears 
That  were  ours  in  former  years. 

True,  those  scenes  have  fled  for  aye  ; 
Much  we  loved  has  passed  away ; 
Many  hopes  we  cherished  then 
Moulder  in  the  silent  glen; 


TWIUQHT  MUSING8. 


Many  hearts  that  fondly  beat 
With  our  own  in  concert  sweet, 
Pulseless  slumber  in  the  tomb, 
Heedless  of  the  dreary  gloom ;  • 

Other  hearts,  grown  cold  and  changed. 
For  long  years  have  been  estrange!;  ' 
And  we  sigh  but  aigh  in  vain,  ^     ' 

wl'\''.*f  °^™  ^"  ^^3^«  of  yore  ~ 
J^ve  which  time  can  ne'er  restore ! 

And  yet,  as  we  wander  here. 
Mid  the  scenes  to  memory  dear, 
And  the  8hin:ng  tear-drops  fkll, 
Hay,  would  we  the  past  recall  ? 
aorrow  may  have  m.xrked  our  brow 

:Kjarthly  hopes  have  fled  away  — 
We  have  brighter  hopes  to-day ; 
We  have  learned  what  all  must  lean, 
Learned  to  weep  above  the  urn  ' 

Where  our  fondest  joys  lie  low; 

Wealth,  and  honor,  and  a  name 

M^f  f'^'^'^^^'thfame. 
Are  but  shadows  soon  to  flee : 

J^et,  what  matters  it  that  we 
in  our  early  youth  have  found 
Vanity  in  alliiround? 
better  thus  to  learn  so  soon. 
*.re  our  sun  has  reached  its  noon, 
J  ban  to  strive  and  straggle  on 

For  a  phantom  tilPt  is  ^ne; 
Better  thus  to  raise  our  eyes 
m  our  VQMfk  4^ j^^  _,ji 


176 


176 


TWILIGHT   MU8IHGS. 

Turning  thus  from  earth  away 
To  a  world  of  endless  day  ; 
Fixing  our  best  hopes  above, 
Longing  for  the  realms  of  love ; 
Knowing,  even  here  below, 
That  beyond  this  vale  of  woe 
There  remains  for  us  a  rest 
In  the  mansions  of  the  blest, 
Where  the  friends  that  parted  here 
With  a  sigh  and  with  a  tear, 
With  a  smile  that  angels  wear 
Shall  embrace  each  other  there, 
Never  more  to  fear  a  change, 
Or  know  aught  that  will  estrange ! 
May  that  blissful  rest  be  ours  ; 
Then  through  amaranthine  bowerfl 
Pure  and  happy  we  will  roam 
In  our  everlasting  home  ! 


^i^ 


PASSING  AWAY. 


Tii«  flower  that  blooms  so  bnVht  and  fair 
And  scents  the  sweet  and  bal^y  ai"  ' 

Is  hastennig  to  decay ;  ^       ' 

We  mark  awhile  its  gorgeous  hues 

All  decked  in  fine  array  • 
But  ah!  they  wither  in  an  hour 

Thejr,  too,  have  passed  tway! 

Friendship  and  love,  with  air  divine 
The,r  sacred  tendrils  closely  twine 

Around  the  l,eart  to-day ; 
But  let  tho  frowns  of  fortune  come. 

And  ere  to-morrow'B  setting  sun      ' 
•iney,  too,  have  passed  away  ! 

The  truest  and  the  dearest  friend, 
fc  '7«  ""'J  n«ver.  never  end. 
Bow,,tod..ut'iS,„lhiessswav: 

>Ve  give  ono  1oi.e,  w,.  la»l  em»>"-i.^ 


he  has 


passed  away 


BBP 


MM 


178 


\ 


PASSINO   AWAY. 

Then  is  there  nothing  firm  and  sure  7 
O,  is  there  nothinc  to  endure 

When  earthly  things  decay  ? 
Yes  —  Faith,  with  bright  and  beaming  eye, 
Beholds  celestial  glories  nigh, 

That  ne'er  can  pass  away ! 

Released  from  all  her  griefs  and  fears. 
She  looks  beyond  this  "  vale  of  tears," 

To  an  eternal  day ; 
And,  with  a  smile  of  joy  and  love. 
She  points  to  happiness  above. 

Which  ne'er  will  pass  away  ! 

On  Pisgah's  top  she  takes  her  stand, 
And  there  surveys  the  promised  land. 

Where  heavenly  zephyrs  play ; 
And  in  a  firm  and  cheerful  tone. 
She  calls  those  blissful  realms  her  own, 

Which  ne'er  can  pass  away ! 

She  sees  the  monster  Death  restore 
The  cherished  forms  she  loved  before. 

Now  clad  in  bright  array ;        ^    i 
And,  freed  from  ev'ry  earthly  stain. 
She  greets  those  ransomed  ones  again, 

Who  ne'er  will  pass  away  ! 

But,  brightest  far  in  that  bright  place, 
She  views  her  Saviour's  dazzhng  face. 

Where  smiles  divinely  play ; 
O'ercomc  by  love  and  by  his  charms, 
She  rushes  to  his  outstretched  arms, 

Tk.T      »  _  _.     i  -     1.  _     J.  _  _„     „  ».^  «.  I 
iSe  Ct    iAi   iiii    iUiil    a»f»ij   i 


V 


11 


PASSING   AWAY. 

f^rtT  *^°  ^^'^'^"^  ^o^'^es  Sing 
Jiternal  praises  to  their  Kine      ^ 

Inanimmortallay: 
She  joins  the  bright  and  holy  thron^r 
w!7f'  ^ith  them  the  hea3yt)„,. 
Which  ne'er  will  die  awayT     ^     ^ 

Then  how  can  earth's  deceitful  smile 

Or  lead  his  steps  astray  ?        ^       ' 
A^/f  L^'"  '^^'^^  ^^-^"^  «arth  afar, 
Which  ne'er  will  fade  awaj. 

A^da^rh^^,'*^'"^^^*^^^'^'^*^^  drear 
And  all  he  loves  or  prizes  here  ' 

^^^^,J^<^ening  to  decay; 
And  death  has  passed  away  • 


179 


IffffB 


THE  EXILE'S  FAREWELL. 


Farewell  to  the  scenes  of  my  childhood ! 

A  long  and  a  lasting  farewell ! 
Farewell  to  the  "  wide-spreading  wildwood !  " 

Farewell  to  the  mountain  and  dell ! 
Farewell  to  the  home  I  have  cherished 

With  love  and  devotion  so  true ! 
All  my  hopes,  my  fond  hopes,  have  perished ; 

Then  farewell,  my  country,  to  you ! 

Farewell,  0,  farewell,  my  dear  mother ! 

Thy  tears  have  affected  my  heart, 
And  the  sobs,  that  I  gladly  would  smother, 

In  painful  succession  will  start. 
I  leave  thee,  my  mother,  forever,  — 

In  far  distant  regions  to  dwell. 
To  return  to  thy  side  again  —  never ; 

O,  mother,  dear  mother,  farewell ! 

Bear  father,  with  yearning  devotion 
My  aching  heart  clings  unto  you, 

And  heaves  with  a  bitter  emotion, 
As  I  bid  you  a  lasting  adieu ! 

I  leave  you  —  I  leave  our  dear  dwelling. 
The  home  I  have  long  loved  so  well, 

And  tear-drops  to  torrents  are  swelling ; 

O.  futhnr.  Amlv  fathftr.  fnrnwAU  ! 


THE   KXILK'S   FARBWJiLL. 

Farewell,  O,  farewell,  my  dear  brother! 

The  scenes  of  our  childhood  are  past  • 
We  shall  never  again  meet  each  oth^,':. 

This  fervent  emb.  ..  is  our  last. 
I'he  favorite  haunts  we  selected. 

The  forest,  the  hill  and  the  dell, 

n  I  'T  ^h''^  *^°"«  ^°d  dejected  : 
U,  brother^  dear  brother,  farewell ! 

®Tht'*'n'  ?T  ^'"'^ ''  »^*r  breaking. 
To  bid  all  I  love  an  adieu ;  ^ 

And  while  all  the  others  forsaking. 

O.  must  I,  sweet  sister,  leave  you  ? 
Yes ;  leave  you  with  love  that  is  yearning 

Too  deep  and  too  holy  to  tell ;  ^  ^' 

The  future  will  bring  no  returning; 

U,  sister,  dear  sister,  farewell  1 

Hark  !  hark  !  the  soft  zephyrs  are  sighimr  • 
They  call  me,  they  call  me  away?     ^' 

V\^ould  bid  me  no  longer  deliy  f 
0,^  blessings  my  father,  my  ii;ther~ 
For  him  you  have  guarded  so  well ; 

TnH^h'^'^'^^'^^^^^'^y  brother! 
And  then  —  forever  farewell ! 
16  . 


181 


THE    ORPHAN. 


Thb  utorm  was  loud ;  a  murky  oloud 

O'erhuDg  tho  midnight  sky, 
And  rude  the  blast  that  wildly  passed 

A  lonely  orphan  by ; 
But  ruder  still  the  bitter  thrill 

Of  woe  that  rent  his  heart ; 
Darker  his  feurs,  sadder  the  tears 

That  evermore  would  start. 

"  Bleak  is  the  storm,  and  on  my  form 

Thv    jjjads  in  fury  beat; 
A  raekifig  pain  torments  my  brain, 

A^'l  mm  these  weary  feet ; 
No  i&Y  t>f  light  illumes  the  night, 

And  here,  alas !  I  roam, 
Where  tempests  howl  and  wild  beasts  growl ; 

0,  that  I  had  a  home  !   . 

*♦  Full  many  a  day  has  rolled  away 

Since  I  have  laid  me  down, 
To  cease  to  weep,  and  fall  asleep, 

Save  on  the  cold,  damp  ground  ; 
And  many  more  may  pass  me  o'er 

Ere  I  may  cease  to  roam ; 
One  year  ago  it  was  not  so,  — 

vov  tuen  i  uuu  a  houic  ! 


ud 
ssed 


n 


sts  growl ; 


THE   ORPHAN. 

**  Then  on  his  child  a  father  smiled 
And  londly  lu^  oarofsed  • 
When  F  rrow  came,  o.  hitter  paiii. 
1  leaned  upon  his  breust ; 

In  <^ort  and  soothing  tone  ; 
U,  what  a  strange  and  dreary  change  — 
*or  then  I  had  a  homo! 

"  When  evening  gray  shut  out  the  '  >  y. 
iiesido  my  mofftor's  knee 
With  simple  air     breathed 'the  i       er 
„  J*»^^nf  other  taught  to  me  ;  ' 

Nnf  n    !S-  ^7"' °«fc  o«  the  ground, 
Not  on  this  cold,  damp  stone? 
But    n  my  bed.  love  made  instead  — 
*oi  then  I  had  a  home  ! 

"  The  livelong  day  I  spent  in  play 

Around  our  peaceful  cot, 
Or  plucked  the  flowers  from  blooming  bowers. 

And  to  my  mother  brought. 
Then  bliss  and  joy  without  alloy, 

And  love  around  me  shone  j 
Ihen  hope  could  rest  within  my  breast— 

i^or  then  I  had  a  home! 

"  My  father  died,  and  by  his  side 

My  darling  mother  sleeps ; 
And  now  their  child  in  anguish  wild 

Wanders  around  and  weeps  ' 
The  pleasant  cot  my  father  bought 

A  stranger  calls  his  own  ; 
With  tearful  face  I  left  the  place. 

AVi  it  vfiis  uQi  my  iiume  .' 


188 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


fiiUU 


2.8 
3.2 


3.6 

4.0 


1.4 


2.5 


2.2 


2.0 


1.8 


1.6 


^     x^PPLIED  IIVMGE 


Inc 


165J  East  Main  Street 
Rochester,   New  York        U609 
(716)  482  -  0300  -  Phone 
(716)   28B-5989  -Fox 


USA 


mmmmm. 


Mm 


184  THE   ORPHAN. 

"  No  home  have  I,  no  shelter  nigh, 

And  none  my  grief  to  share ; 
But  I  've  a  Friend,  to  him  I  '11  bend, 

And  he  will  grant  my  prayer. 
He  '11  lend  an  ear,  for  he  can  hear. 

Though  high  his  mighty  throne  : 
My  steps  he  '11  guide,  and  he  '11  provide 

The  orphan  with  a  home  ! 

"  Dark  grows  the  sky,  my  lips  are  dry, 

And  cold  my  aching  brow  ; 
Is  this  a  dream  ?  —  for,  lo  !  I  seem 

To  see  my  mother  now  ! 
Faint  grows  my  breath,  the  arms  of  death 

Are  surely  round  me  thrown  ; 
O,  what  a  light  breaks  on  my  sight !  — 

There,  there  's  the  orphan's  home !  " 

With  smiling  face  in  death's  embrace 

The  orphan  calmly  slept ; 
He  heard  no  more  the  tempest's  roar ; 

No  more  the  orphan  wept. 
No  longer  pain  might  rack  his  brain, 

No  longer  might  he  roam  ; 
The  dearly  loved  he  'd  met  above. 

And  found  with  them  a  home ! 


nd, 


r, 


rovide 


BEHOLD  HOW  HE  LOVED  US. 


dry, 

of  death 

;lit!  — 
me!" 

race 

'oar; 

ain, 


While  on  the  cross  the  Saviour  bleeds, 
While  friend  nor  foe  his  anguish  heeds  : 
While  many  a  taunt  and  bitter  jeer 
^reak  harshly  on  his  holy  ear  ; 
He  prays,-what  can  that  last  prayer  be?- 
U,  wondrous  love,  he  prays  for  me  ! 

Deep  anguish  fills  his  troubled  soul, 
ihe  streams  of  blood  in  torrents  roll  • 
And  louder  railings  now  are  heard; 
He  breathes  not  one  complaining  word  • 
ret,  hark !  he  prays,- what  can  it  be  ?  — 
U,  wondrous  love,  he  prays  for  me  ! 

He  bows  his  head,  the  Saviour  dies  • 
Darkness  o'erspreads  the  azure  skies 
iioud  thundeis  shake  the  earth  and  air 
And  earthquakes  heave  in  horror  there  • 

Angels  the  act  with  wonder  see ; ' 

0,  matchless  love,  he  dies  for  m'e  ! 

He  leaves  the  dark  and  gloomy  grave, 
While  angel  pinions  round  him  wave, 
And,  rising  from  the  mountain's  brow      ■ 
He  kneels  before  his  Father  now  ;      ' 
lie  pleads, —what  can  those  pleadingrs  be?— 
U,  deathless  love,  he  pleads  for  me ! 
16* 


mrf 


■fi     il 


186  BEHOLD    now    HE    LOVED   US. 

And  can  I  then  such  scenes  hehold, 
And  still  be  careless,  stiii  be  cold  ? 
Can  I,  with  air  of  sinful  pride, 
Cast  such  unbounded  love  aside  ? 
My  soul,  0,  can  it,  can  it  be  ? 
Has  Jesus  died  in  vain  for  thee  ? 

O,  no  !  the  crimson  streams  that  glide 
From  Calvary's  deeply  blood-stained  side, 
Invite  my  soul,  so  stained  with  sin, 
To  wash  away  its  guilt  therein  ; 
And  in  those  precious  drops  I  see 
Christ  has  not  died  in  vain  for  me ! 

The  Saviour  pleads,  in  thrilling  tone, 
Before  his  mighty  Father's  throne, 
That  for  his  ^ake  my  guilty  name 
Within  the  book  of  life  may  claim 
A  place.     He  smiles  ;  and  now  I  see 
Christ  does  not  plead  in  vain  for  me  ! 

Amazing  love  !  what  tongue  can  tell 
The  wondrous  depths  that  in  thee  dwell  ? 
What  angel's  mind  can  e'er  explore 
The  riches  of  thy  boundless  store  ? 
0,  matchless  love  beyond  degree,  — 
Christ  bled,  he  died,  and  pleads  for  r/ie  ! 


EARTH  NOT  THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HOME. 


&'  ""'f  '"  H  ^''^  ^"d  sorrow, 
^t^I  ^^^"S^"  0"  to-morrow ; 
With   hy  woe  and  with  thy  parting, 
Wi  h   hy  tears  of  anguish  starting. 

With  ill  r"f «««  I;^-rt.strings  breaking, 
With  thy  loved  and  lost  forsaking,  ^' 

With  th^  fam,3hed  millions  sighink 
^ith  thy  scenes  of  dead  and  dyinf. 
With  thy  graveyards  without  number, 

Earth,  0,  earth !  thus  dark  and  dreamy, 
Cold  and  sad,  and  worn,  and  weary. 
Inou  art  not  my  hoir  3  ! 

Earth   0,  earth  !  with  all  thy  slaughter, 
And  thy  streams  of  blood  like  watl     ' 
Oer  the  field  of  battle  gushing, 
Where  the  mighty  armies  rushing 
Reckless  of  all  human  feeling, 
With  the  war  trump  loudly  pealing, 
And  the  gallant  banners  flying 
Trample  on  the  dead  and  dying  • 
Where  the  foe,  the  friend,  the  brother, 
Bathed  m  blood  sleep  by  each  other; 
^fl^„?^!^^^^'*K"«<^^rk  and  gory, 

"' mT^  """*  ''^'^^^  ^'^^^  ^P  thy  storr, 
Ihou  art  not  my  home ! 


m 


188  EARTH   NOT  THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HOME. 

Earth,  with  all  thy  scenes  of  anguish, 
Where  the  poor  and  starving  languish, 
To  the  proud  oppressor  bending, 
And  their  cries  for  mercy  blending ; 
Where  the  slave  with  bosom  swelling, 
Which  despair  has  made  its  dwelling, 
And  the  scalding  tea  -drops  falling  — 
Sight  to  human  hearts  appalling  — 
Strives,  but  strives  in  vain  to  sever 
Fetters  that  must  bind  hira  ever ; 
Earth,  0,  earth  !  with  each  possession 
Sold  to  tyrants  and  oppression, 
Thou  art  not  my  home  ! 

Earth,  0,  earth  !  thy  brightest  treasures. 
Like  thy  hopes  and  like  thy  pleasures. 
Wintry  winds  are  daily  blighting ; 
Pain,  and  woe,  and  death  uniting. 
Youth  and  love  and  beauty  crushing. 
And  the  sweetest  voices  hushing ; 
Rich  and  poor,  and  old  and  blooming. 
To  one  common  mansion  dooming ; 
While  the  cries  of  every  nation 
Mingle  with  those  of  creation  ; 
Earth,  0,  earth !  thus  dark  and  dreary. 
Cold,  and  sad,  and  worn,  and  weary, 
Thou  art  not  my  home ! 

Earth,  0,  earth  !  though  dark  and  gory. 
In  thy  pristine  state  of  glory. 
Angels  came  upon  thee  gazing. 
Songs  of  love  and  rapture  raising ; 
For  thou  then  wast  bright  and  beaming. 
With  the  sunlight  on  thee  streaming. 
With  thy  crystal  waters  laving 
Shores  with  fadeless  forests  waving; 


HOME. 

uish, 
»uish, 

>g; 

Ihng, 
ling, 
^g  — 

er 
sssion 


easures, 
sures, 

> 
ing» 

Qing, 


Ireary, 
d  gory, 


ammg, 
tng, 


>g; 


1SARTH  NOT  THE  CHRISTUN's  HOMB. 

With  thy  plains  and  with  thy  mountains 
With  thy  ever-gushing  fountains;-        ' 

i^  alien,  fallen,  and  so  lowly ; 
Thou  art  not  my  home  ! 

N\2l     f '  /«^  there  comes  a  morrow : 
Night  and  clouds,  and  gloom  dispersing 
And  thyself  O,  earth,  Lmersin?        '^' 
4"  ^  flood  of  light  undyin.. ; 
When  the  curse  upon  thee'' lying, 
With  Its  thousand  woes  attending 
)  Death,  and  paiii,  and  bosoms  reiSin^ 
■  partings  that  the  heart-strings  sever 
y^l^  Rebanished,  and  fbrev^,  1     ' 
\,  Earth,  0  earth  !  renewed  in  glory 
Love  and  joy  make  up  thy  story ; 
O,  be  thou  my  home  ♦ 

Earth,  although  thou  seemest  forsaken, 
Y  eta  liote  of  praise  a  waken: 
For  the  angels,  lowly  bending 
Kound  the  throne  of  light  unending, 
Gaze  upon  thee,  sad  and  groaning  ^ 
Listen  to  thy  bitter  moaning :      ^ 
Ihou  hast  scenes  to  them  amazing, 
n^f,«°  C!a  vary's  mountain  gazing  • 
And  they  smile  on  every  natiof     ^ ' 
Purchased  with  so  great  salvation,  - 
^arth,  0,  earth !  renewed  in  gbrv 
Angels  shall  rehearse  thy  story  • 
0,  be  thou  my  home !         * 

Earth,  the  morn  will 

And  thy  Saviour  willrestor^elhee  ,• 


189 


190  BARTH  NOT  THE  CHRISTIAN'S  HOME. 

Far  more  bright  and  far  more  blooming, 
And  more  glorious  robes  assuming, 
Than  when  first,  o'er  Eden  ringing, 
Angel  voices  were  heard  singing ; 
For  thy  King  himself  descending, 
Heaven  and  earth  together  blending. 
With  his  saints  a  countless  number, 
Those  who  live  and  those  who  slumber, 
Over  thee  will  reign  victorious,  — 
Earth,  0,  earth !  thus  bright  and  glorioui 
Be  thou  then  my  home ! 


>  HOME. 

looming, 


mg, 

)er, 

umber, 

I  glorious 


(< 


THE   SERVANT  IS   NOT  ABOVE  HIS 
MASTER/^  ^ 

Lonely  pilgrim,  art  thou  sinking 

Neath  the  weight  of  grief  and  care  ? 
Bitter  dregs  of  sorrow  drinking         ^ 

From  the  cup  of  dark  despair? 
Mourn  not,  for  thy  Master/footsteps 

The  same  gloomj  paths  have  trod  • 
He  has  drained  the  /up  of  anguish  !! 
He,  the  mighty  Son  of  God! 

Bo^  gaunt  poverty  surround  thee. 
With  Its  pale  and  meagre  train? 
Do  they  gather  closely  round  thee. 

Mourn  not,  for  the  chilly  dew-drons 

Fell  upon  thy  MasterC  bed;      ^ 

Mourn  not  for  the  Prince  of  Glory 
Had  not  where  to  lay  his  head  • 

Are  thy  kindred  lowly  lying 

In  the  cold  and  silent  tomb. 
Heedless  of  thy  plaintive  sighing 

■KTn^rf^  M ^  *^^  S"^^  and  glofi  ? 
Know  thy  Master's  tears  descended 

^^  Where  a  dearly-loved  one  s W 
^uKnows  well  thy  weight  of  sorrow  • 
Murmur  not,  for  Jesus  wept  ' 


iiiit'i'ririti 


192     THE  SERVANT  NOT  ABOVE  UI3  MASTER. 

Do  the  friends  that  once  caressed  thee 

Pass  thee  by  with  frowning  brow  ? 
Has  the  friendship  that  once  blessed  thee 

Changed  to  bitter  hatred  now  ? 
"Weep  not,  for  thy  Master's  brethren 

In  his  sorrow  turned  aside, 
Scorned  to  own  that  once  they  loved  him ; 

Weep  not,  —  Jesus  was  denied  ! 

Does  a  scoffing  world  deride  thee, 

And  expose  to  scorn  and  shame? 
Do  thy  foes  rise  up  beside  thee, 

Blast  thy  character  and  name  ? 
Know  thy  Master  was  derided, 

Scorned  in  Pilate's  judgment-hall. 
Mourn  not ;  Christ,  the  great  Redeemer, 

Was  despised  and  loathed  by  all. 

Art  thou  torn  with  grief  and  anguish  ? 

Racked  with  many  a  burning  pain  ? 
Does  thy  weary  body  languish  ? 

Fearful  pangs  torment  thy  brain  ? 
Murmuf  not ;  from  Calvary's  mountain 

List  thy  Master's  dying  groan ! 
Murmur  not ;  thy  great  Redeemer 

Gave  his  life  to  save  thine  own ! 

Does  the  monster  Death  look  dreary  ? 

Fill  thy  mind  with  fears  and  gloom  ? 
Does  thy  spirit,  faint  and  weary. 

Shrink  in  terror  from  the  tomb  ? 
Know  thy  Master  's  gone  before  thee, 

Crossed  the  dark  and  narrow  tide. 
Disarmed  Death  of  all  his  terrors. 

Then  fear  not  —  thy  Saviour  died ! 


[S  MASTER. 

sssed  thee 
ig  brow  ? 
blessed  thee 
low? 
)rethren 

y  loved  him ; 
enied ! 

thee, 
hame  ? 
ee, 
ime  ? 
d, 

Jnt-hall. 
fc  Redeemer, 
by  all. 

anguish  ? 
ing  pain  ? 
h? 

brain  ? 
3  mountain 
oan! 
Bemer 
own! 

dreary  ? 
nd  gloom  ? 
iry, 
omb? 
ore  thee, 
3W  tide, 
•rors. 
ur  died ! 


TUK  SERVANT  NOT  ABOVE  Hrs   MA9TM. 

Ves,  he  died,  _  the  Prince  of  Glorv  - 

Died  upon  the  cursed  tree  ;^' 
Wgnm  spread  the  joyful  story ;  _ 

Jesus  d,ed,  and  died  for  thee  ! 
And  he  rose, -he  rose  triumphant  — 
W>'"  ''«'.''»•«'«  of  death  in  twain 
lonely  p.igrim,  that  same  Jesus 
Will  return  to  earth  again ! 

See  the  first  faint  beams  of  mornin. 

Pilgnm,  itisbroalcofday- 

Lot  i  '-■'.Pi'^r';'™'  ^'^P  "»  longer! 
Let  thy  glad  Hosanna  rin.r  < 

Jesus  eomes  in  power  and  gfo^  ; 
Hail  thy  Saviour  and  thy  King. 


193 


TO  A  MOTHER  ON  TFIE  DEATH  OF  UER 

CHILD. 


Mother,  thy  loved  one  slumbers  now 

In  deep,  unbroken  rest ; 
But  slunnbers  not  with  smiling  brow 

Upon  thy  tender  breast. 
O,  no !  for  Death  with  cruel  dart, 

Unheeding  anguish  wild, 
Has  rudely  torn  thy  yearning  heart, 

And  borne  away  thy  child. 

Thy  home  is  drear  at  break  of  day, 

And  drear  at  set  of  sun ; 
For,  lo !  the  grave  enwraps  the  clay 

Of  thy  departed  one. 
And  vainly  does  thy  spirit  sigh, 

With  yearnings  deep  and  wild, 
To  clasp  once  more  within  thy  arms 

Thy  dear,  thy  darling  child. 

Cold  Death  has  snatched  thy  lovely  flower ; 

But,  lo !  the  day  draws  near. 
When  even  Death  shall  lose  his  power. 

And  thy  sweet  child  appear 
All  glorious  with  immortal  life. 

In  Eden's  garden  fair. 
O,  mother,  mother !  would'st  thou  meet 

Thv  df>n.rlv-lr»VPrl   nna  iVtavA  ^) 


mi  OF  HER 


ers  now 
;  brow 
3art, 
heart, 

day, 
e  clay 

ild, 
arms 

^yely  flower ; 
s  power, 


TO   A    MOTIUni   ON   THE   DEATH   OF   HKR   CHILD.    1 

^'o7 ti!f  •  '^'"  f  i"  ^''  bIood-wa.shed  thron. 
Un  that  immortal  shore?  " 

O,  would'«t  thou  swell  the  Conqueror's  song 
And  greet  thy  child  once  more  ?  ^ 

ihcn  turn  to  him  who  died  for  theo 
A  death  of  woo  and  pain; 

And  at  the  resuiTeution  morn 
iimbraco  thy  child  again  ! 


05 


lou  meet 


(( 


LIVE  BY  FAITH,  AND  NOT  BY  SIGHT/' 


Christian,  why  those  flowing  tears  ? 

Why  that  clouded  brow  ? 
Why  those  dark  and  gloomy  fears 

That  torment  thee  now  ? 
Throw  aside  the  dark  control 
That  has  gained  upon  thy  soul. 
Bid  thy  doubts  all  take  their  flight  ; 
"  Live  by  faiih,  and  not  by  sight." 

Though  temptations  often  rise, 

Lead  thee  far  astray. 
Keep  in  view  the  glorious  prize, 

Always  watch  and  pray ; 
Know  the  crown  is  sure  to  those 
Who  the  tempter's  power  oppose. 
Gird  thine  armor  on  for  fight ; 
"  Live  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight." 

Though  thy  J.  ^i  is  deeply  stained. 

Turn  from  self  thine  eye. 
"  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  once  slain  !  " 

And  his  dying  cry 
Still  is  ringing  loud  and  clear 
In  the  Father's  holy  ear. 
Then  let  not  thy  sins  aff'right; 
"'  Live  hy  faith,  and  not  by  sight." 


LIVE  BY  FAITH,    AND  NOT  BY  SIGHT.  19/ 

Though  thy  life  be  dark  and  drear. 

vJneofpain  and  gloom, 
And  all  that  thy  heart  holds  dear 

dumber  m  the  tomb ; 
^ough  want  and  poverty  be  thine  ; 

Thrn    w.*^^^'?^*''  *^^«  ^«  divine 
Through  this  dark  and  dreary  ni^ht 

Live  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight." 

Though  the  darkness  reigns  supreme, 

±aith  with  piercing  eye 
Sees  a  glorious  morning  beam, 

And  that  morning  nigh 
Which  ushers  in  the  perfect  day. 
When  every  cloud  shall  pass  aw    ^ 

^tu  ^^T^^"'.  *hen,  faith  with  uelight 
Shall  quickly  yield  her  place  to  sight^ 


.  rfftMltLlili[atflto%».i|i!iliij.iii>i,M 


THE    MISSIONARY. 


"  Farewell,  O,  farewell ! "  the  fond  husband  sighed, 
As  she  wept  in  his  arms,  that  beautiful  bride ; 
*'  Stern  duty  commands  me,  and  shall  I  delay. 
When  my  Saviour  himself  is  pointing  the  way  ? 

*'  Those  tears,  dearly  loved  one,  0,  why  will  they  start? 
Like  sharp-pointed  arrows  they  torture  my  heart ! 
And  none  save  my  God  my  deep  anguish  can  tell 
While  I  bid  thee,  beloved  one,  a  long,  sad  farewell  I 

"  But  list  to  the  wild  and  the  heart-piercing  wail, 
Borne  onward,  still  onward,  by  every  soft  gale, 
From  Afric's  dark  coast ;  and  canst  thou  complain, 
Or  bid  me  still  longer  with  thee  to  remain  ? 

"  I  go  to  bear  freedom  to  Africa's  sons  ; 
I  go  to  bear  light  to  the  down-trodden  ones ; 
I  go  to  proclaim  a  Saviour's  deep  love ; 
I  go  to  prepare  them  for  mansions  above ! 

"  Farewell,  0,  farewell !  though  the  tears  flow  like  rain, 
We  will  hope ;  for,  beloved  one,  we  shall  meet  again ! 
If  not  on  p-irth's  wild,  in  that  bright,  blissful  home, 
Where  pilgrims  are  sheltered,  no  longer  to  roam." 

He  has  gone  like  the  wind ;  but  the  wild,  tossing  main 
VViii  ne'er  waft  him  back  to  that  loved  one  again; 


THE   MlSSrONARY. 


199 


VRY. 


I  husband  sighed, 
ful  bride ; 
11 1  delay, 
g  the  way  ? 

lywill  they  start? 
ire  my  heart ! 
;uish  can  tell 
;,  sad  farewell ! 

)iercing  wail, 
J  soft  gale, 
thou  complain, 
3main  ? 

ns; 

n  ones ; 
re; 
love! 

sars  flow  like  rain, 
ihall  meet  again ! 
blissful  home, 
;er  to  roam." 

ild,  tossinff  main 
d  one  again ; 


Like  a  warrior  he 's  gone, .  ih  his  sword  and  his  shield  • 
Like  a  warrior  ho  'JI  fall  on  ihe  battle-staiaed  Bold !    ' 

The  years  may  roll  on,  but  will  never  restore 
Ihat  warrior  again  to  his  own  native  shore  ; 
For  he  sleeps,  calmly  sleeps,  far  o'er  the  blue  wave. 
While  the  tears  of  affection  fall  fast  o'er  his  grave. 

For  the  dark  sons  of  Afric  kneel  mournfully  there, 
And  with  uplifted  hands,  join  their  voices  in  prayer  ; 
While  often  in  accents,  half  stifled  with  sighs, 
Ihe  praise  of  the  warrior  ascends  to  the  skies. 

O,  warrior !  thy  conquests,  thy  glory  and  name, 
Are  nowhere  enrolled  in  the  annals  of  fame  • 
But  engraved  in  the  hearts  of  the  heathen  with  love 
Internal,  and  found  in  the  Lamb's  book  above. 

O,  warrior!  no  laurel  encircles  thy  brow 

Not  even  a  tombstone  is  reared  to  thee  now ; 
But  soon  will  a  throne,  and  dominion  divine. 
And  a  crown  of  bright  glory  and  honor,  be  thine  ! 

That  crown  will  be  set  with  more  precious  gems 
Than  ever  have  glistened  in  kings'  diadems ; 
But  the  brightest,  the  purest,  the  dearest  gems  there, 
The  souls  thou  hast  rescued  from  woe  and  despair ! 


^^^^^WlaWBB?j\E^ ' 


MORNING   SONG. 


Thb  orient  beams  of  morn  arise, 
And  while  they  tinge  the  blushing  skie», 
And  shining  warblers  on  the  wing, 
"With  voice  exulting,  loudly  sing, 
And  every  Jeaf  and  every  flower 
Is  glistening  with  a  pearly  shower  j 
O,  let  us  bend  the  huaible  knee. 
And  let  us  render  thanks  to  thee, 
Our  gracious  Father  and  our  friend. 
Strong  to  uphold  and  to  defend  ; 
And  let  us  raise  a  song  of  praise 
With  angela  round  the  throne  ! 

When  clouds  of  darkness  veiled  the  sky, 
And  midnight  winds  went  howling  by. 

Supported  by  thy  mighty  arm, 

Preserved  from  every  rude  alarm, 

We  sunk  to  rest,  —we  calmly  slept. 
While  night  her  lonely  vigils  kept; 
And  now,  while  morning  brightly  glows, 
We,  grateful  for  our  sweet  repose 
And  for  thy  mercy  and  thy  care. 
Would  bow  the  knee  in  grateful  prayer. 
And  we  would  raise  a  song  of  praise 
With  angels  round  the  throne  ! 

And  when  our  course  on  earth  is  done, 
And  when  our  weary  race  is  run, 


J. 


Dg  skies, 
og, 


MORNINO   SONG. 

4l1i''-',V.^'  ^°"S  and  gloomy  night 
Shall  yield  its  place  to  morning  hit, 

And  glorious  m  the  eastern  skies  ^ 
aLa    u.f  ^;g'^*«0"sness  shall  rise, 
An^  'i^  *?/  '^^^^^^"'  «f  ^"  times, 
fJI   °f -n"  "?*'°"''  ^"^  ^"  climes, 
From  hill  and  vale,  from  land  and  sea, 
Shall  quickly  rise  to  welcome  thee : 
Then  may  we  in  sweet  concert  raise 
A  song  of  love  and  endless  praise, 
And  join  with  angels'  rapturous  lays 
Around  the  dazzling  throne  ' 


201 


end, 


the  sky, 

'ghy, 


ept, 
)t; 
^  glows, 


•rayer, 
a,ise 


inno 


L 


THE    STAR   OF   BETHLEHEM. 


*•  Ye  tempests  howl,  ye  waters  roar, 
Around  my  lonely  bark  ; 
For  love,  and  peaco,  and  joy,  are  o'er  ! 
Roll,  roll,  ye  waters  dark  I 

"  Ye  heavens  grow  black  with  stormy  clouds, 
Put  on  your  vengeful  frown ; 
Ye  thunders  roll,  ye  lightnings  flash  — 
Pour  all  your  fury  down  ! 

"  Heave,  heave  thy  waves,  thou  sounding  deep, 
Higher  and  higher  swell ; 

The  trust  I  give  thee,  ocean,  keep ; 

To  all  I  loved,  farewell ! " 

He  spoke  —  th-  youth  with  darkened  soul. 

With  burning  cheek  and  eye ; 
He  dashed  aside  his  raven  locks. 

And  sternly  turned  —  to  die  ! 

One  instant  more  the  dark,  dark  wave 

Had  closed  around  his  form  ; 
And  he,  the  young,  the  erring  brave 

Had  sunk  beneath  the  storm. 

^ixv  niiiiu  Upon  liic  liuwiing  olust 
He  spread  his  bitter  woes, 


THE   STAR  OF  BETHLEUE3I. 


lEHEM. 

re  o'er  ! 

rmy  clouds, 
flash  — 

)unding  deep, 
ep;  — 

sened  soul, 


:  wave 
'ave 


The  storm  was  calmed,  the  deep  was  stilled  • 
A  glorious  star  arose  !  ' 

And  long  he  gazed  upon  that  star, 
Ihen  bent  the  suppliant  knee: 
J^Jff'ne  pealing  from  afar  - 
That  bright  star  shines  for  thee  ! 

"  Repent  thou  of  thy  dark  design, 
And  hope,  and  peace,  and  love, 

^^f/^VP'g'^iltyonelbethin;, 
And  a  blest  home  above. 

"  ^^l^wK-''^  T^  ^°^  "^^*^^J^  shame 
J3e  thine  the  lot  to  stem  ; 

But  follow  thou  thy  guiding-  star- 
The  star  of  Bethlehem  !  » 

He  rose  serene ;  the  storm  was  o'er, 
-ine  heaving  waves  at  rest: 

Despair's  wild  billows  beat  no  more 

Upon  the  wanderer's  breast. 

And  out  upon  the  calm  night  air 
Ihere  burst  a  song  of  praise : 

It,  J  the,  hour  when  yonder  star 
Met  my  delighted  gaze  I 

"Thou  fairest  star  thou  brightest  star, 
In  all  night's  diadem, 
O,  guide  me  to  my  home  afar, 
Thou  star  of  Bethlehem  '  " 


203 


Ill 


THE  MOTHER^S  LAMENT, 


The  evening  breezes  softlj  moan 

Around  my  lonely  cot ; 
But,  0,  they  bring  no  more  the  tone 

Which  once  they  fondly  brought ! 
They  bring  no  more  the  ringing  laugh 

Ut  childish  joy  and  glee ; 
They  brirg  no  more  the  silvery  voice 

Dearer  than  life  to  me ! 

The  evening  shadows  quickly  fall 

Around  my  lonely  cot ; 
But,  O,  they  bring  no  more  the  scenes 

In  days  of  yore  they  brought ! 
They  bring  no  more  the  joyous  child. 

Obedient  at  their  call, 
To  watch  the  images  they  cast 

Upon  the  cottage  wall. 

The  soothing  hour  of  rest  appears  — 
Thick  darkness  veils  my  cot ; 

But,  ah  !  it  brings  no  more  the  rest 
Which  once  it  gently  brought. 

It  brings  no  more  the  guileless  breath 
Of  childhood's  calm  repose ; 

It  lays  no  more  within  my  arms 


AMENT, 


loan 


he  tone 
•ought ! 
ing  laugh 

7  voice 


fall 

le  scenes 
;ht! 
s  child, 


lars  — 

5  rest 

It. 

breath 


THE  mother's  UMENT. 

The  radiant  beams  of  morning  rise  — 
Theurglorjr  fills  mj  cot;    ^ 

JiutO  they  wake  not  from  his  sleep 
Ihe  form  which  once  thav  brouirhf 
In  health  and  freedom  froThL'coth, 
«  To  breathe  the  morning  air  — 

To  sing  his  simple  lays,  or  join 
With  mem  humble  prayer! 

And  evening's  softest  breeze  may  sigh, 

Hnfi    ^°^  ""^  '^''*»  '"y  darling  child 
Unto  my  arms  no  more ;  ° 

For  neither  storm  nor  searching  blast 

Can  wake  the  slumb'ring  dead; 

^^?^.'^f'P'  heedless  of  them  all 
Within  ins  narrow  bed. 

And  evening  shadows  too  may  fall 
And  darkness  veil  the  skies;      ' 

Mt?h-M^'^-n"'^f^  by  gathering  clouds. 
My  child  will  ne'er  arise,  ' 

j-o  seek  a  shelter  from  the  night 

And  from  the  dreary  gloom  •  ' 

For  night  is  like  the  da/toThise 
Who  slumber  in  the  tomb. 

And  Sleep  may  send  his  angels  forth, 

10  ease  the  weary  heart; 
And  bia  them  spread  their  soothing  wings 

2  1  °®^®^  ^^^*  ^"other  shade. 
My  boy,  upon  thy  brow; 

T  ^^j^'^.uv/''^^^^'  ^°^^  and  still, 
In  deathlike  slnmKr —  ' 

-  — — — ,  ,^^ 


205 


"Xav  rtr\. 


18 


"V.T. 


200  THE  mother's  lament. 

My  child  comes  not  at  hush  of  eve, 

Nor  in  the  silent  night ;  • 

But  when  the  Morn  shall  gild  the  east 

With  floods  oiJimTig  liyht, 
And  when  that  morning's  Sun  shall  rise, 

Whose  beams  shall  gild  the  toinb, 
My  boy  will  leave  his  icy  couch, 

In  more  than  childhood's  bloom ! 

Then,  hail,  thrice  hail,  thou  happy  day !  - 

When  wUl  the  night  be  gone  ? 
When  will  the  shadows  flee  away, 

And  that  bright  morning  dawn  ? 
Sure  every  mother's  heart  that  holds 

A  tie  so  dear  and  strong, 
Within  the  grave,  with  me  can  cry  — 

" How  long,  O  Lord,  how  long?" 


iW 


east 


II  rise, 


day!  — 


ds 


r  — 


'TIS  I-BE  NOT  AFRAID. 

'™e.y  bark  was  on  the  soa. 
Where  wild  the  billows  played  • 
Deep  terror  6lled  each  trembling  frame 

When  suddenly  the  accents  came.         ' 
i  IS  1  —  be  not  afraid ! " 

.    ^  "'"''■y'-  stood  with  tranquil  air : 
He  saw  the  stake,  the  fettlrs  ther;, 

Ihetagots  all  arrayed;    ' 
But,  though  such  darknei  reigned  around 
H   caught  the  sweet,nhe  cheefing  sound!  ' 
J.  IS  1  —  be  not  afraid !  " 

A  weary  pilgrim  roamed  alone ; 

J^or  him  was  breathed  no  friendly  tone; 

No  friendly  hand  brought  aid  f 
But,  through  the  gloom  so  dark  and  drear 
A  gentle  whisper  reached  his  ear,  ' 

T  is  I  —  be  not  afraid  I  " 

A  mother  knelt  in  anguish  wild 
iieside  a  loved,  a  dying  child. 

And  tears  in  torrents  strayed  : 
A  soothing  voice  breathed  to  her  heart 
In  tones  that  bade  despair  depart,        ' 
i  IS  X  —  be  not  afraid !  " 


ir 


208 


'tis   I — BE   NOT   AFRAID. 

\  y  n  a  bed  of  pain  and  death 

A  (Ji  nstian  faiutiy  drew  his  breath, 

With  spirit  half  dismayed  ; 
He  heard  a  soft,  a  tender  voir''  — 
It  caused  th„^  spirit  to  rejoieo  — 

"'Tis  I  — bo  not  afraid!" 

A  penitent  with  streaming  e^'e 
Raised  unto  heaven  his  doleful  cry, 

And  fervently  he  prayed ; 
A  brilliant  light  around  him  shone. 
And  with  it  came  a  heavenly  tone, 

"'Tis  I  — bo  not  afraid!" 

And  when  the  trump  from  yonder  skies 
Shal'  bid  the  silent  dead  arise; 

When  suns  and  stars  shall  fade ; 
When  thunders  roar,  and  mountains  fall ; 
The  saints  shall  hear  above  them  all, 

"  'T  is  I  —  be  not  afraid ! " 


• » 


"BJillOLD,  HE  COMETH." 


He  comes  with  glory  onTi   Trow        ' 
He  comes -bttfti.fo  vengeance  now.. 

He  comes—  but  not  with  lowlv  form  • 
.   He  comes  'mid  wreath  in,r  ..  n^        V 
While  suns  and'IS'taU  ftThMe'  *™'" 
Before  the  mighty  Cruciecd! 

He  comes  —  he  comps 

But  awful  maMral™"""''""'^ '^°™- 
Hisslunmg  brow;  creation  rings; 
ior.lo,  he  comes  as  King  of  tings! 

Tr::EaTdtrb:n;;trLrstf-'' 

In  terror  to  the  mountains^call     '• 
lo  hide  them  from  the  Lord  of  All  ! 

Ho  comes  —  hn  coin"o^  i— i 

And  Zion  joyfully  hails  her  Ki^r'™  ™«' 


210  ^  "BEHOLD,   HE   COMETH." 

On  wings  of  love  the  saints  arise, 
.    And  mount  to  meet  him  in  the  skies ! 

He  comes  —  he  comes  —  Death's  power  is  o'er ; 
His  victims  wake  from  sea  and  shore  — 
Immortal  leave  the  icy  tomb, 
While  earth  regains  its  Eden  bloom ! 

He  comes  —  he  comes  —  the  tyrant's  sway, 
The  despot's  power,  have  passed  away ; 
And  Zion  sings,  in  joyful  strains, 
"  Jesus^  our  great  Deliverer,  reigns  I  " 


THE  WANDERER. 

Has  %  native  1 J 'oX^  tX"^  "'""^ 
That  thou  bravest  thus  the  rage  of  the  sea? 

uast  thou  not  friends  devoted  and  dear? 

rtn  ^^T^^'^^  '°"g  ^''«r«  the  billows  roar  • 
Thn"  ^^f  ^y'^f'  on  the  peaceful  shore  ' 

Thou  hast  battled  long  with  the  howlirstorm 
And  the  waves  have  dashor?  «'»,  *i,       °  ^">"a, 

Then  cease.  Ionel/:attt:c:;strrra-r''  '"""'• 
Beturn  once  more  to  thj  childhood's  home" ' 

The  meadows  are  green,  and  the  forests  are  fair 

To  such  bright  scenes  wilt  thou  say  farewell? 
Does  thy  mother  not  watch  for  thy  coming  now 

m^Z7^r'  ^'r.'  '''^  ^  throbbing  bfow?' 
J^oes  thy  father  not  list  for  thy  voice  to  fail 

And'irT  V^'  "^^  ancestral  hall?  ' 

And  thy  brothers  and  sisters,  with  t^nA.,  .:. 
Are  -uiey  not  waiting  to  welcome  thee' th^ireV 


212 


THE   WANDERER. 


Then  why  dost  thou  leave  the  beautiful  shore  ? 

Return  to  the  scenes  of  thy  youth  once  more ; 

To  the  forests  green,  0,  wanderer  go! 

Where  thy  youthful  brothers  are  bending  the  bow  • 

J^orget  thy  toils  on  the  briny  deep, 

In  the  sweets  of  homo ;  —  but  why  dost  thou  weep  ? 

"  Ye  bid  me  forsake  the  billowy  foam, 
Ye  bid  me  return  to  my  childhood's  home; 
Ye  say  that  the  forests  are  blooming  and  fair, 
Ye  speak  of  the  birds  tl  it  are  warbling  there ; 
And  my  heart  grows  sad,  and  pallid  my  brow, 
For  I  have  no  home  to  return  to  now ! 

"  Ye  speak  of  the  friends  of  my  early  youth, 
Whom  I  dearly  loved  with  devotion  and  truth ; 

In  whose  joys  and  sorrows  I  once  had  a  share  / 

But  where  are  they  now?    0,  tell  me,  where  !* 
Should  I  meet  them  all  at  the  vine-clad  door?— 
Alas !  alas !  we  shall  meet  no  more ! 

"  Then  tell  me  not  of  my  childhood's  home, 
Nor  the  forests  green  where  I  used  to  roam ;     . 
O,  tell  me  not  of  my  native  shore ! 
It  has  beauties  still;  but  they  charm  no  more! 

There  's  not  a  friend,  nor  a  home  for  me ; 

Then  welcome,  O,  welcome,  thou  dark,  dark  sea! 

«  I  have  wandered  long  with  an  aching  heart ; 
I  have  seen  the  friends  whom  I  love  depart ; 
But  the  howling  tempests  are  wafting  me  o'er 
The  rudfi  sea  of  life  to  a  heavenly  shore ; 
And  soon  I  shall  enter  the  haven  of  rest, 
The  home  of  the  pure,  the  happy,  and  blest. 


1 

1 

c 


lore? 

Die; 

the  bow ; 

lou  weep  ? 

• 

'air, 

lere; 

•ow, 

h, 
nth; 

are;  — 

3re! 

THE   WANDEKER. 


213 


or?- 


Dre! 
£  sea! 

rt; 

> 
'er 


"I  bade  an  adieu  to  earth's  fleetiner  charms 
When  death  tore  all  that  I  loved  from  my  arms  • 
And  now  the  departed  in  ecstasy  wai^  ^        ' ' 
lo  welcome  me  home  by  the  pearly  gate  •  — 
Then  ye  billows  heave/and  yl  ij^s  ro7r 
O,  bear  me  on  to  that  glorious  shore ! » 


# 


p^mSim 


THE   MESSENGER-BIRD 


O,  FLY  away  to  the  better  land, 
Thou  bird  of  the  snowy  wing ! 

O,  fly  away  to  the  blood-washed  band, 
And  hear  the  songs  they  sing ! 

But  bear  a  message  from  us,  O,  dove  ! 

To  that  bright  and  happy  throng ; 
For  we  have  friends,  whom  we  dearly  love. 

Who  swell  the  Conqueror's  song. 

O,  tell  them  our  hearts  are  sad  and  lone, 
Our  homes  not  bright  as  of  yore ; 

For  we  miss  the  soft,  the  soothing  tone 
Of  the  friends  we  loved  before ! 

0,  tell  them  we  sigh  for  the  better  land, 
For  earth  has  grown  sad  and  chill ; 

And  we  long  rejoicing  with  them  to  stand 
On  the  heights  of  Zion's  hill ! 

0,  tell  them  we  long  to  share  their  rest, 

Afar  from  all  earthly  strife ; 
We  long  to  lean  on  our  Saviour's  breast,     - 

And  roam  by  the  tree  of  life ! 

Os  tell  them  our  fondest  Kon^o  arfi  fjipr*^ 
For  our  earthly  hopes  ite  o'er ; 


THE   MESSENQER-BIRD. 


215 


And  we  sigh  for  the  land  ali  bright  and  lUii-- 
,    We  sigh  for  the  deathless  shore  ! 

Then  fly  away  to  the  better  land, 
Thou  bird  of  the  snowy  wino- ' 

'  A^/^^-^  ^  ^^^  blood-washed  band 
And  hear  the  songs  they  sing »        * 

And  then  return  with  th«  speed  of  love. 
AnA^n  *^®^^g^*  grows  dark  and  chill, 
And  tell  us  O  tell  us  thou  white-winged  dove  » 
Do  they  lo-e,  do  they  love  us  still  ?  * 

We  know  there  is  One,  in  that  blissful  home. 

Who  loves  and  remembers  us  yet  ; 
Ih^gh  weary  and  sorrowful  now  we  roam, 

We  know  that  he  will  not  forget ! 

We 'II  trust  him  then  the  great  and  the  strong ; 
By  his  own  almighty  hand  ^ ' 

To  th?f  V7f  Of  with  the  blood-washed  throng 
10  the  bright,  the  better  land !  ^ 


mrmiUmeAamut, 


\. 


THE    DYING    WARRIOR. 


A  WARRIOR  lay,  with  a  heaving  breast, 
On  the  field  of  the  dying  and  dead ; 
His  cheek  was  pale  and  his  lips  compressed, 
And  the  fading  light  from  the  distant  west 
Shone  over  his  gory  bed. 

The  night  came  on  ;  and  the  moon  arose 
With  her  soft  and  her  tremulous  glow ; 
She  shed  her  light  o'er  friends  and  o'er  foes, 
All  sleeping  together  in  dull  repose 
On  the  battle-field  below. 

The  warrior  gazed  with  a  mournful  sigh 

On  the  blue  and  the  star-spangled  dome  ; 
While  tears  shone  bright  in  his  sunken  eye, 
And  vivid  thoughts  like  the  lightning  would  fly 
To  his  childhood's  distant  home. 

He  thought  of  the  mother  who  used  to  bend 
O'er  his  couch,  when  in  sorrow  and  pain 

Who  to  his  complaints  an  ear  would  lend ; 

But  alas !  he  knew  that  that  dearest  friend 
Would  ne'er  bend  o'er  hun  again. 

He  thought  of  the  scenes  where  once  he  strayed 

With  his  brothers  in  days  of  yore ; 
He  thought  of  the  stream,  the  peaceful  glade. 
The  cottage  that  stood  in  the  dark  green  shade 
IT  iwi  mc  viucs  muuuu  lae  uoor. 


311. 


essed, 
west 


se 


)WJ 

:  foes, 


h 

ome  ; 
eye, 
vould  fly 


TUE  DYING    WARRIOR. 


217 


^'t'X  X'^^  \P""S  °^  ^^rk  despair, 

%llZ.Y  "1  ^'T"*  P^^y^^  ^«»^d  rise 
i^or  the  loved  and  the  long-absent  one  • 

Sd  Kh  *  ''^  *.^^"  ^^"'^  ^«  "^om  Wir  eyes 
And  his  father's  voice  would  be  choked  with  LYo 
As  he  prayed  for  his  erring  son  ^^'' 

He  knew  for  him  the}  would  all  implore 

A  renewed  and  a  sanctified  heart  ; 
That  when  the  toils  of  this  life  were  o'er 
They  all  rmgU  embrace  each  other  once  more 

Never,  no  never  to  part !  ' 

One  trembling  hand  to  his  brow  he  pressed, 
And  the  tears  of  contrition  he  shed ;       ' 
He  implored  for  pardon,  a  home  with  he  blest  • 
Then  he  wrapped  his  cloak  round  h  s  gor^^^^^^^^^ 
And  the  warrior's  spirit  fled  '  ^^  * 

19  ^ 


bend 
pain  — 
id; 
end 


strayed 

glade, 
n  shade, 


THE    MOTHER^S    ROCK. 


Mear  where  two  streams  their  waters  blend 

There  stands  a  lofty  rock ; 
The  tempests  howl,  the  floods  descend, 

Still  it  withstands  the  shock. 
'T  is  darkly  stained  with  tears  and  gore 

Ne'er  to  be  cleansed  by  time ;  * 

For  there  it  bends  the  blue  wave  o'er 

A  monument  of  crime ! 

Within  a  fair  sequestered  place, 

Where  forests  green  appeared, 
And  nature  wore  a  smiling  face, 

A  little  hut  was  reared  ; 
Wild  flowers  grew  in  profusion  there. 

And  balmy  zephyrs  sighed  ; 
Nor  knew  they  aught  of  grief  or  care 

The  negro  and  his  bride. 

Bright  faces  gathered  round  their  hearth. 

Though  dark  the  youthful  brow ; 
Yet  they  were  dearer  than  all  earth 

Unto  those  parents  now ; 
And  love  that  mortals  seldom  know 

Around  their  dwelling  shone, 
And  made  a  paradise  below. 


rp^  -.11  xu- 1  1      _t 

J.W  iiii  luu  wuriu  uuKiiOwu. 


TIIE   mother's   rock. 

^  Thn.^  1  there  came  a  fatal  morn, 
tJAu^^^''?^^'^^  e'er  before; 
The  father  with  his  eldest  born 
Launched  from  the  peaceful  shore  • 

A^nd    'J '^  *!;«  ba'rk  was  borne  ' 
And  lightly  sped  away, 
U  er  the  blue  waters,  to  return 
iJefore  the  close  of  day. 

'Twas  noon;  and  sat  beneath  the  shade 
The  wife  and  children  three -- 

A  happy  group ;  two  round  her  played 
One  sported  on  her  knee.         ^   ^    ' 
And  joy  was  in  the  mother's  eye 
That  loye  will  eyer  claim  ~ 

A  mother's  loye,  too  strong  to  die, 
In  black  and  white  the  same! 

one  starts  m  dread  amaze ;  — 
What  sound  was  that?  what  sight  is  this 

BnfhiM  TT^  ^""^«  ^^e  bare  ; 
But  he,  the  leader  of  that  band, 
-Has  soft  and  sunny  hair  ! 

Each  brow  is  dark  saye  his  alone  - 

And  his  how  pale  and  fair ' 
Compared  with  theirs  how  soft  his  tone '  _ 

What  does  the  white  man  there? 
The  crucifix  of  silyer  bright 

T^,fe^J.^^5.^^.«*  appears  ^ 

-   -o^.  wi  puuue  —  ail  J  sure  the  si^ht 
Must  soothe  the  mother's  fears  !^ 


219 


220 


THE   mother's   rock. 

Alas !  no  messages  of  love 

Bring  him  at  such  an  hour, 
And  she  must  dread  his  frown  above 

The  savage  Indian's  power  ' 
She  clasped  her  babes,  dearer  than  life, 

One  piercing  cry  she  gave, 
■^ojr  she,  the  mother  and  the  wife. 

Must  be  the  white  man's  slave  I 

She  struggles ;  —  no,  it  may  not  be  — 

fehe  may  not  burst  her  chain ; 
The  negro  never  may  be  free 

In  her  dear  home  again  ! 
But  near  and  nearer  to  her  breast, 

With  torn  and  bleeding  arms 
Her  trembling  babes  she  wildly  pressed, 

10  hush  their  rude  alarms  I 

Toward  the  river's  quiet  shore 

That  struggling  form  they  drew  ; 
J-^®  J^aves  that  morn  the  father  bore  — 

They  bear  the  mother,  too  ; 
But  not  like  him,  ere  day  shall  close, 

±0  seek  their  once  fair  cot  ; 
She  never  more  may  find  repose 

Within  that  sheltered  spot  I 

The  shore  recedes,  her  breast  heaves  high 
With  woe  and  anguish  wild; 

tSt^^  *^e  wave  there  rings  a  cry 
"  My  husband  and  my  child  !  " 
Al^  wretched  one  !  thy  bitter  wail 

Falls  on  no  tender  ear^ 
And  thou  may'st  call  till'vmVA  slioii  «.;i 
Nor  child  nor  husband  hear !         -""* 


I 
F 


fe, 


3d, 


igh 


THE  mother's  hock. 

That  night  when  moon  and  shining  star 
.  Lit  up  tho  azure  dome,  ^   ^ 

Ah.  iittle  might  .they  know 
ihe  pangs,  that  rent  her  faithful  breast 
Of  agony  and  woe  !  ^* 

Day  after  day,  night  after  night, 

bhe  strove  to  fly  i„  vain ;  ^ 
As  oft  arrested  in  her  flight, 

They  brought  her  bound  again  ! 

She  bore  the  lash,  the  scorn,  the  shame 
With  an  undaunted  heart ;  ' 

SL    •  /,^^'^f  ,P^«g  there  came  - 
She  and  her  babes  must  part ' 

In  vain  she  clasped  them  to  her  "breast 
With  look  of  wild  despair ;  ' 

From  that  last  place  of  earthly  rest 
Those  helpless  ones  they  tear ! 

And  she  has  gone;  at  every  throb, 

O,  how  her  bosom  bleeds  ! 
iMor  scalding  tear  nor  bitter  sob 

A  pitying  spirit  heeds  ! 
From  shore  to  shore  she  rolls  her  eyes-. 

W^r.r'"'-*^'  scene  around  !    ^  ' 
wnile  there  in  *»««««  r,u^  \-. 

Bleeding,  and  worn,  and  bound  ! 


221 


222  THE  MOTnm's  rock. 

Tho  day  wears  on  —  't  will  soon  be  spent ; 

How  trembles  now  her  frame  ! 
She  hears  her  darling  babes  lament, 

And  call  their  mother's  name  ! 
The  dearest  objects  of  her  care,  — 

O,  no  !  they  must  not  be 
Without  a  friend  their  griefs  to  share,  — 

One  struggle  —  she  is  free  ! 

She  plunges  'neath  the  dark  blue  wave, 

And  she  has  reached  the  shore ; 

Now  haste  thee  on,  0,  mother,  brave ! 

Ne'er  was  such  need  before. 
Alas  !  alas  !  't  is  all  in  vain  — 

Hell-hounds  are  on  her  track ; 
Upon  her  Hying  steps  they  gain  — 

They  've  brought  that  mother  back  ! 

Upon  a  rock  which  overhung 

The  dark  and  foaming  wave. 
With  every  nerve  to  anguish  strung, 

Stands  the  heart-broken  slave  ! 
And  at  her  side  are  cruel  foes ; 

Her  suffering  they  mock  ; 
The  cliff  o'er  which  her  life  blood  flows 

They  name  the  "  Mother's  Rock  ! " 

She  trembles  as  the  lashes  fall  — 

She  feels  the  warm  blood  start ; 
But,  ah  !  a  pang  more  keen  than  all 

Has  torn  her  wretched  heart  I 
And  't  is  not  for  he^-  own  dark  lot 

Her  bitter  shrieks  arise ; 
Her  helpless  babes  claim  every  thought ; 

i-  or  tucm  she  madly  cries ; 


spent ; 


e,— 
Lve, 

3! 


c! 


YS 


ht; 


THB  MOTIUBR'p    ROCK. 

Onoomoretheboatisonitswr- 

Ibo  setting  sun  sheds  his  last  ray 
Upon  the  scene  below: 

-tvua  lails  t/ J  clally  rain 
Upon  the  mother's  bleeding  form 
And  cool,  her  burning  brain 

They  reached  the  destined  place  at  length  : 
W  ithm  a  dreary  shed  ^    ' 

The  mother  lay  with  wasted  strengtJi 
And  sadly  drooping  head.         ^ 

vZT^u^'  '°?  '^'  ^«^'«  «"  sound 
Except  the  raging  storm  ; 

Her  wounded  arms  she  may  not  move- 

Her  teeth  untie  the  thong ; 
Ah !  how  those  painful  efforts  prove 

Her  love,  so  deep  and  strong ! 
With  noiseless  step  and  beaming  brow 

fehe  passes  through  the  door : 

For  ir  \"'  ^''''  ^^*^  Wture  now, 
J-^or  she  is  free  once  more  ! 

The  n^ht  is  dark,  the  rain  falls  fast, 

And  fourscore  miles  divide 
Her  from  her  babes,  -  wilds  to  be  passed 

And  rivers.deep  and  wide !  ^         ' 

Ihe  scene  around,  the>y  above, 

Might  tempt  her  to  despair: 
iiut_,  no ;  her  heart  is  strong  u^Wl.  h 

ner  precious  babes  are  th^ere  '  "  " 


223 


224  THE  mother's  rock.  V 

with  bounding  heart  she  takes  her  flight 

Where  man  has  never  been ; 
Deeper  and  deeper  grows  the  night, 

Brighter  the  flame  within  ; 
Through  forests  dense,  where  scarce  a  beam 

Of  light  at  noon  might  stray  — 
O'er  pathless  waste  —  o'er  swollen  stream  - 

Onward  she  holds  her  way ! 

Days  fled  —  and  on  the  fourth  bright  morn 

The  mother's  woes  were  past  — 
What  cared  she  now  for  pain  or  scorn  ?  — 

She  clasped  her  babes  at  last ! 
The  tears  of  joy  rolled  o'er  her  face  — 

Yet  short  the  hour  of  bliss ; 
0,  mother !  't  is  thy  lact  embrace  — 

Thy  last  paternal  1<:iss  ! 

While  friend  nor  foe  may  heed  her  cries,   • 

They  bind  her  as  before  ; 
Her  children's  wails  with  hers  arise  — 

They  part  —  to  meet  no  more ! 
The  mother  bowed  her  aching  head 

Beneath  the  fatal  stroke ; 
Her  heart  had  long  in  anguish  bled, 

And  now  her  heart-strings  broke  ! 

Not  long  her  mangled  breast  might  heave 

With  its  tormenting  throes ; 
For  ere  the  sun  had  set  that  eve 

The  mother  found  repose  ! 
Nor  children's  wail  might  rouse  her  more, 

Nor  cause  her  form  to  start ; 
She  rested  calmly  on  th«  shore  — 

She  of  the  broken  heart ! 


light 

I  beam 
tream- 

t  morn 
•n?  — 


THE   mother's   rock. 


225 


Near  where  two  streams  their  waters  blend, 

Ihere  stands  the  «  Mother's  Rock '  " 
The  tempests  howl,  the  floods  descend, 

fetill  It  withstands  the  shock  • 
For  there  it  bends,  uncleansed  by  time, 

Ihe  dark  blue  wave  above, 
A  monument  of  woe  and  crime, 

And  of  a  mother's  love  ! 


Ties, 


leave 


naore, 


\ 


THE   DRUNKARD^S   WIFE. 


There  came  a  cry  on  the  howling  blast 

A  cry  of  woe  and  of  pain ; 
A  moment  more,  and  the  voice  had  past, 

And  never  was  heard  again ! 

That  night  a  mourner  her  vigils  kept, 

But  the  tear  was  yet  unshed ; 
And  the  chilly  breeze  her  damp  locks  swept 

Above  the  brow  of  the  dead  ! 

Long,  long  she  gazed  on  the  haggard  face. 

And  she  parted  the  matted  hair 
From  the  deadly  brow,  where  shame  and  disgrace 

Were  mingled  with  foul  despair ! 

She  shed  no  tear,  but  the  pallid  cheek 

Told  well  of  the  inward  strife; 
And  told  of  the  woe  no  tongue  might  speak 

The  woe  of  the  drunkard's  wife ! 

Dark  grew  the  night,  and  louder  the  storm, 

And  the  dreary  rain  fell  fast; 
But  still  she  knelt  by  that  shattered  form, 

And  she  thought  of  the  scenes  of  the  past. 

She  remembered  well  when  in  early  youth 

She  stood  by  that  loved  one's  side, 
With  a  beaming  eve  and  n.  h^arf  nf  im^tu 

A  lair  and  a  happy  bride. 


\ 


IFE. 

ast  — 
>ast, 


3  swept 

face, 

md  disgrace 


speak  — 


jtorm, 


THE   drunkard's   WIFP. 

She  remembered  weli  <l.^  ♦^^^ 
She  remembered  well  the  home  of  yore 

'^5rett^''^--->^.th..re^^ 

For  she  saw  thf  o'nfe  fe  d7«l°„"d 'th':"'"  ' 
Prepared  for  a  drunkard's  tomb  ,« 

And  the  curse  was  henrii  o+  *i, 
^  She  breathed  o'er   ^eX^^^^    ^^^^  '^^^^"^ 
I'or  the  curse  of  God  wifh  h.  ^     ''^' 
Upon  the  rumseller'sTci^^^^^  "'"'  ^°^" 


227 


orm, 
le  past. 

)uth 


nfk 


\ 


THE  NEW  YEAR. 


WRITTEN   FOE   1853. 

Another  year !  —  another  year !  — 

What  strange  emotions  swell, 
As  with  a  saddened  heart  we  hear 

The  dying  year's  farewell ! 
We  mark  his  last  expiring  groan, 

And  then,  perchance,  a  tear, 
Sacred  to  Memory's  self  alone. 

Falls  on  his  silent  bier. 

We  view  in  deatli  his  closing  eye, 

His  features  pale  and  chill ; 
And,  though  we  scarce  could  answer  why, 

We  cling  around  him  still. 
We  draw  the  gloomy  shroud  apart 

That  hides  his  well-known  face. 
And  with  a  wildly  heaving  heart 

We  give  one  last  embrace. 

In  his  short  reign  a  long,  long  band 

Of  pain  and  death  he  's  led ; 
And  ev'ry  nation,  ev'ry  land. 

Sighs  for  its  fallen  dead. 
Upon  her  mighty  statesman's  ,grave 

Columbia  drops  a  tear, 
T?  luiu  jiiijgiaiia  uiourns  iier  warrior  brave. 

And  weeps  above  his  bier. 


\ 


•  I  _ 

>    • 

ear 


re, 

iswer  why, 

art 

ce, 
•t 

and 


ave 

•ior  brave, 


THE   NEW    YEAR. 

He 's  mixed  for  us  full  many  a  cup 

Ut  sorrow  and  of  care, 
And  sternly  bade  us  drink  it  up, 

Unheedmg  what  was  there. 

'iteh^si?^'--^^^ 

'       Th?f^^^-f  ?^r'^'^  ^«^'««  ^'«  Pushed 
I  hat  hailed  the  new-born  year ! 

He  'r.  r-iven  us  a  priceless  gem, 

.ot  round  with  gems  of  gold : 
i'laced  m  one  glorious  diadem, 

When  will  its  worth  be  told  ? 
That  precious  gift  once  was  our  own  ; 
That  jewel  fair  and  bright 

Now  lies  before  our  Maker's  throne, 
And  glistens  m  his  sight ! 

And  when  the  trumpet's  awful  roar 

Wn  S  11  f  ^^*^  S'°^"^"g  earth. 
We  shall  behold  that  gem  once  more. 

And  we  shall  feel  its  worth. 
^,  will  it  buy  the  great  reward 

Ihen  prized  by  ev'ry  heart? 
Ur  will  it  force  our  gracious  Lord 
10  speak  that  word  -—  «  depart 

That  year  has  fled,  forever  fled  ~ 
But  stay  ye  rsLlUng  tears  ! 

A    u-  ^°°^^®r  gem  instead 

As  bright  and  pure  appears. 
Improve  it  well  —  the  gift  ig  g^at  - 

It  may  not  long  be  thine ; 
Then  learn,  ere  it  shall  be  too  late. 

ifie  ^kicoiess  worth  of  time 
20 


229 


)> 


\ 


THE   CAPTIVE. 


"  Another  dreary  day  is  past  — 
I  fain  would  wish  it  were  my  last; 
bince  every  day  and  every  year 
Find  me  a  lonely  captive  here. 

"  When  rise  the  beams  of  mc-ning  light 
At  morn,  at  eve,  at  dead  of  night--   ' 
Ah  !  ihey  are  all  the  same  to  one 
Who  never  sees  the  rising  sun ! 

*'  Sometimes  I  hear  the  merry  shout 
Of  children  wandering  without ; 
And  when  those  joyous  sounds  I  hear, 
i^ver  there  falls  a  burning  tear. 

"  JJor  I  had  children  young  and  fair, 
With  sparkling  eyes  and  sunny  hair, 
With  blooming  cheek  and  happy  brow :  — 
Where  are  they,  0 !  where  are  they  now? 

"Perchance  they  slumber  in  the  tomb 
Forgetful  of  their  father's  doom  •      ' 
Perchance,  far  o'er  the  dark  blue  sea, 
liiey  h^e,  and  still  remember  me. 

"0,  could  they  gaze  upon  my -face, 
They  would  not  there  their  father  trace 
IN  or  in  this  bent  and  feeble  frame  !  —   ' 
The  heurc  alone  is  still  the  same ! 


THE   CAITIVE. 

"  My  Smu  A  ^'''  ^^^^^-^  ^i^h  time ; 
B.Tf  i  ;       ^*  ^®  ^'^  manhood's  prime  • 
But  let  me  try  as  oft  I  will       ^        ' 

I  sec  them  only  children  still. 

"ToTlr^^.'^.'^*'  hearts  are  strong 

I  wondtift'  '"?  ^^""  *^^  ^4? 
1  wondei  if  they  place  their  love 

On  things  below,  or  things  above? 
Iheir  faith  m  Jesus'  blood  alone  ?  - 

i^or  which  I  am  a  captive  here. 

"Grant  it  my  Father  and  my  Friend  • 
Anm^^r^r^'''^  love  extend  ;■ 
in  mercy,  Fa,   er,  make  them  thine  I 

"And  if  this  dreary  dungeon  wall 

And  if  ''?  ''""f. ^^  '^^  ^^-^^   ball  call  • 
And  if  unfriended  and  alone  ' 

1  breathe  my  last  expiring  groan ;    . 

"  ^e  thou  my  hope,  be  thou  my  stav 
Brive  all  my  gloomy  fears  a^^' 
An^\f^^"^  J^"<i  joy  my  bosom  fill, 
And  be  my  God  and  portion  still! 

*  Wl^K^^r*  f  ^««n°y  beam  can  dwell 
v..   if  *^11^^'^  ^^^  "o^'sorne  cell 
Yet  show  thy  tace,  the  darkness  flies  - 
Where'er  thou  art  is  Paradise 

"  Though  human  tonp«  T  »,.,....  i.. 


231 


23i2  THE  CAPTIVE. 

My  drooping  spirit  will  rejoice, 

And  bound  to  hear  thy  still,  small  voice. 

"  Shut  out  from  all  the  world  can  prize, 

From  friendship  and  from  kindred  ties 

Home,  light  and  love  forbidden  me  — 
I  find  my  more  than  all  in  thee  ' 

"  And  when  my  earthly  strength  shall  fail, 
Be  thou  my  guide  through  death's  dark  vale ; 
With  thine  own  arm  support  me  still, 
And  bring  me  safe  to  Zion's  hill." 

That  night  another  crown  was  given. 

Purchased  by  blood  alone ; 
Another  voice  was  heard  in  heaven 

Around  the  dazzling  throne. 

Another  jc /ful  harp  was  strung, 

While  tne  eternal  done 
With  saints*  and  angels'  voices  rung, 

To  hail  the  captive  home. 


0, 

Why 

Sourc 

Hidd. 

That  I 

Wher 

When 

When 

When 

When 

When 

Whisp 

Thei 

Pavili( 

Hid  in 

Willn: 

Yes ;  - 

When' 

Then^i 

The  thi 

Then  m 

And  ev 


ioe. 


INCOMPREHENSIBILITY 


Bil, 
:k  vale ; 


'jF  god. 


Source  and  support  of  all,  why  is  thy  form 
Hidden  from  mortal  eyes?  when  every  storm 
Thataweeps  athwart  the  dark  and  aniy  skT 
When  all  the  bright  and  burning  orbf  m  hL 
When  the  deep  sea,  that  in  its  fiy  roar"     ^ 

When  all  Its  beautiful  and  fertile  sCeT' 
When  every  river,  hill  and  lowly  dalT 

Whe^  Zy  ^T'"'."'  "■'«  ""d  flowe  y  vale, 


LINES  WRITTEN  FOR  AN  ALBUM. 


Sister,  tho  names  recorded  here 
Have  wished  thee  pure  delight  — 

Pleasures  undimmed  by  sorrow's  tear, 
Unknown  to  sorrow's  night. 

I  'd  wish  thee  such  ;  but,  0,  't  is  vain  •  — 

For  oft  the  tear  will  flow; 
Life  has  its  grief,  life  has  its  pain. 

And  thou  must  share  its  woe. 

What  would  thy  sister  wish  for  thee  ?  — 

Wishes  of  purest  love ; 
Such  as  would  gild  death's  dreary  sea, 

And  lead  to  realms  above. . 

S^e  'd  point  thee  far  beyond  the  tomb, 

Where  pleasures  ne'er  decay  ; 
She  'd  wish  for  thee  such  joys  as  bloom  ^ 

When  others  flee  away.  * 

She  'd  bid  thee  raise  thy  eyes  from  earth 

Unto  a  heavenly  shore, 
Where  sisters  reared  around  one  hearth 

May  meet  to  part  no  more. 


UM. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  MOTHER. 


a  WEEPXNo  group !  with  mournful  tread, 
With  streaming  eye,  and  drooping  head, 
Enter  your  sacTand  lonely  home,  ' 

Ho  desolate  and  xrloomy  grown 
Since  Death,  with  cold,  relentless  hand. 
Has  torn  one  from  your  household  band. 

A  cherished  form  has  left  your  door— 
A  form  that  ne'er  will  shade  it  more  • 
An  eye  is  closed  that  always  smiled 
Upon  you  with  affection  mild  ; 
A  voice  is  hushed  that  used  to  greet  • 
A  rmther^s  heait  has  ceased  to  beat/ 

Each  object  now  that  meets  your  eves 
Causes  the  swelling  tear  to  rise;     ^ 
Ihe  scenes  you  view  at  every  tread 
Kemind  you  of  the  silent  dead  ; 
AH  things  a  lonely  aspect  wear, 
J^or  one  dear  place  is  vacant  there. 

When  round  the  family  board  you  meet 
And  each  one  takes  his  'customed  seat,  ' 
The  sigh  the  bitter  sigh,  will  start, 
forced  from  an  almost  bursting  heart. 
And  tears  each  other  fiuinklv  fr«nn 
As  you  behold  a  vacant  place 


ft  iv%rvi 


236 


ON   TIIB   DEATH   OP   A   MOTHER. 

When  at  the  altar's  "shrine  jou  bend, 
Your  prayers  of  love  and  praise  to  blend, 
J^ou  11  glance  around  with  mournful  brow. 
And  view  one  seat  that 's  vacant  now  • 
And  while  you  raise  the  fervent  prayer, 
The  tears  will  fall  m  torrents  there. 

But  see !  beyond  the  falling  tears, 
A  beam  of  glorious  light  appears ; 
It  gently  beckons  you  away 
From  sorrow's  dark  and  gloomy  sway, 
And  points  your  spirits,  so  forlorn, 
Unto  the  resurrection  morn ! 


^s 


DEATH. 


Nearly  SIX  thousand  rolling  yeart 
Cold  Death  has  held  his  sway ; 

Compelling  all,  in  every  age, 
His  mandates  to  obey. 

To  him  the  monarchs  of  the  cArth 

In  forced  submission  bow  ; 
Unawed  by  rank  he  lays  his  hand 

i^  en  on  the  kingly  brow. 

The  bravest  heart,  the  stoutest  form. 

bubmit  their  fleeting  breath ; 
And  even  haughty  tyrants  yield 

Unto  the  tyrant  Death. 

The  conqueror,  decked  with  trophies  won 
from  many  a  spreading  l-nd 

Casts  sword  and  laurel      .ath  aside, 
And  bends  at  Death's  command. 

^^^iff .*  ^"l^  ^0^'  the  rich  and  poor, 

The  high  m  earthly  fame, 
Ihe  good  and  meek,  all  feel  alike 

ills  sure  and  deadly  aim. 

He  rends  the  strongest  ties  of  love. 

Tears  dearest  friends  apart, 
And.  npArllAcia  ft^«^ A* ;    . 

tie  breaks  the  bleeding  heart. 


I 


238 


DEATH. 

From  sea  to  sea  from  shore  to  shore, 
His  ghastly  victims  lie ;  — 

When  will  the  tyrant's  power  be  o'er? 
When  will  the  tyrant  die  ? 

When  the  last  trumpet's  awful  sound 
Shall  pierce  the  silent  tomb, 

And  the  eternal  Son  of  God 
Pronounce  his  final  doom  — 

Then,  then,  shall  burst  the  joyful  cry, 
While  heaven  and  earth  shall  ring,'— 

"  O,  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ? 
O,  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  " 


EIIJAH. 


C^'^'lfl  '?"*  °"  "•«  mountain's  brow  _ 

And  every  eye^isZt^l^^  """"""^  "'™»g'- 
As  thou  standest  alone  in  tliy  mijesty. 

The  prophets  of  Baal  are  many  and  great 

nl  f"'J^.^^F  ''^P'  """J  "aim  thy  brow  - 
The  Lord  God  of  hosts  is  for  thllnowr 

Anl'd^r^';    iS'tt'  *"?"  ■?''^^^'  "<•--. 

•And  the  people  own  that  the  Lord,  he  is  God, 

And  the  mormng  breeze  sweeps  gently  by 
And  all  IS  quiet  on  earth,  in  air-  '  ^' 
«ot  asouad  escapes  from  that  mn!t!t„^»  fi,... . 


240 


ELIJAH. 


But  a  voice  is  heard ;  and  dear  and  loud     ^ 
If  breaks  on  the  ears  of  the  listening  crowd: 
They  quickly  obey.     A  space  is  cleared ; 
Ihe  bul  ock  IS  slain,  the  altar  is  reared  : 
While  the  prophets  of  Baal  around  it  bend, 
And  implore  their  god  an  answer  to  send. 

The  day  wears  on,  and  the  sun  is  high  — 
fetiU  round  that  altar  they  madly  cry  ; 
But  the  sky  is  serene  as  ever  before, 
And  frantic  with  rage,  they  shout  the  more; 
-«ut  t  IS  all  in  vain;  and  the  day  has  past, 
And  the  prophets  of  Baal  have  yielded  at  last. 

Each  heart  beats  high  with  anxiety  there, 
As  Jilijah,  with  calm,  majestic  air, 
Alone  and  exposed  to  a  nation's  frown 
Kebuilds  the  altar  long  since  thrown  down. 
1  IS  the  hour  for  the  evening  sacrifice  now. 
And  he  solemnly  kneels  on  the  mountain's  brow. 

On  the  name  of  the  Lord  his  God  he  calls ; 

When,  lo !  quick  as  lightning,  the  fire  falls ! 

A  smoke  ascends  to  the  vaulted  sky. 

And  with  it  ari|BS  a  mingled  cry ; 

And  bowed  is  each  head,  and  bent  is  each  knee. 

As  « the  Lord,  he  is  God ! "  rings  lotid  o'er  the  sea. 

^is  night,  and  the  evening  breeze  grows  chill  • 
Ihe  prophet  pleads  with  Jehovah  still ; 
He  has  seen  the  prophets  of  Baal  slain. 
And  now  he  implores  for  the  falling  rain. 
Ihe  heavens  grow  black  at  Jehovah's  word  •  — 
Arise,  Elijah,  thy  prayer  is  heard ! 


(( 


A 


'*  That 
For  Be, 
His  am 
He  is  n( 

Death  c 
A  light. 
And  a  v 
'T  is  the 

'  He  slee 
I  called  . 


id 

Dwd; 
Hid, 


"HE  DOETII  AIL  THINGS  WELL." 


lore; 

st, 
it  last. 


n. 

•w, 
s  brow. 

3; 

Is! 


.  knee, 
r  the  sea. 


ihill  ; 


rd;  — 


And  a  smile  on  the  father's  brow  ■ 

U,  bitter  the  strokp  mTr  \a  r    j    * 
That  torn  fLl  V^    '  ^^  idohzed  one, 
J^nai  tore  thee  from  Jove  and  me  J  " 

An  angel  form  -r  near  to  the  plane 
And  he  rai.       as  drooping,  head      ' 

With  a  smi  ing  brow  and  beamir.fkce 
The  angel  visitant  said  :   ^"''"^  *^^^' 

"  That  beautiful  form  iq  no  i«», 

^:^™t:s?hK-"-'- 

He.no,„„,orth,-r-I,t:tKrhX-e,. 

Ai!'hShfr„i^,^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

And  a  vo  ce  is  heard  'm\c\  ^  ,, ,  ^^^''^^  ^"0  gloom, 
'Ti.  the  voice  Of  lttor;rS.-tT- 


He  sleep] 


s  m  my  arms  —  the 


I  cnea  hiol^Z/fZlai'lhC"  ^-i^^ 


21 


sorrow  and  care 


242  "HE   DOETn   ALL   TniNQS   WELL." 

I  died  to  redeem  him,  and  now  be  is  mine, 
>Vith  angels  and  seraphs  forever  to  shine ! 

*  Death  claims  his  cold  form,  and  he  bears  him  away: 
^ut  his  dust  IS  mine  own,  and,  till  the  bright  day. 
When  I  come  and  bid  earth  to  yield  up  her  trust, 

1  will  watch  o'er  his  tomb  —  I  will  guard  his  dust. 

*  In  glory  and  grandeur  descending  the  skies, 
With  a  form  .  ke  mine  own  I  will  bid  him  arise ; 
By  the  side  of  his  Saviour  forever  to  roum 
With  the  lambs  of  my  flock  in  his  beautiful  home. 

*  Wouldst  thou  meet  him,  thy  loved,  thy  lost  one  again, 
l^ar  far  from  a  world  of  confusion  and  pain  ? 

O,  I  would  embrace  thee  with  rapture  and  joy 
And  give  thee  a  home  with  thy  beautiful  boy ! 

•In  the  mansions  of  bliss  I 've  gone  to  prepare 
There  is  room  for  thee  still ;  -  wilt  thou  enter  there  ? 
Through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  the  entrance  is  free 
And  a  pitying  guide  thou  wilt  find  in  me. 

*  I  have  severed  one  tie  from  this  dreary  earth, 
And  thy  tears  are  the  signs  of  an  angel's  birth : 
1  have  borne  one  tie  to  tl^e  regions  above;  — 
Wilt  thou  follow  him  to  those  mansions  of  love  ? ' " 

There  came  a  balm  to  the  father's  woes, 

And  a  smile  to  the  father's  brow  ; 
Years  passed  away,  and  he  's  found  repose 

In  the  home  of  the  blessed  now  ! 

And  as  ho  bends  at  the  shining  throne, 
And  joins  in  the  angel's  lay, 


TJ 


Ho  thanks  his  God,  in  _ 
That  he  bore  his  child 


n.  invtnl   fnnrt 


away 


I  away; 
day, 
rust, 
dust. 


THE  CaUCIFIED  Of  GALILEE. 


ise; 
;ome. 
ne  again, 

r 


•  there  ? 
s  free. 


9?"' 


JfaTHOCGHT  I  stood,  at  closo  of  day 

And  bright  beneath  the  Eastern  s&s 
Jhe  sacred  hills  of  Canaan  rise 

K  ?.""  •«  *'" V-amefal  tiee,  - 
rhe  Crucified  of  Galilee ! 

I  heard  the  mocking  throng  derida 
The  anguish  of  the  Crucififd  • 

I  saw  the  brilliant  sun  grow  dim  • 
J  i«:'^<"=«?«on  shriek  for  himT  ■ 
I  saw  him  die  and  die  for  me  ' 
Tho  Crucified  of  Galilee  ! 

Fr"oi'th"^,*'',*''"^^"°P™i«ed 
*rom  the  eternal  world,  and  eazed 

& ""  T"^  '"  deep  surp^lr 
f?^/°™  «'<">«  could  L  my  eyes- 
I  knew  him,  ye.,  indeed  Was^.'- 
ihe  Crucified  of  Galilee ! 

A  taW  T"  ""'^  '°^«>y  brow 
A  beam  of  glory  rested  now: 

*ot  still  I  kne„  ^g  ^^g  j^^   J^         . 

WnO  huntf  nnnn  ^U^  ,.i />  , 

TK    r<  ""•'/.'  ■■""'■  ^"^"ieiui  tree, 

The  Crucified  of  Galilee ! 


r 


244 


THE   CRUCIFIED   OF   GALILEE. 

I  knew  him  by  his  tender  air ; 
I  knew  him  by  the  fervent  prayer 
He  breathed  for  those  for  whom  he  died: 
1  knew  him  by  his  wounded  side; 
By  these  I  knew  that  it  was  he,  — 
The  Crucified  of  Galilee  ! 

I  knew  him  by  the  loving  smile 
Witn  which  he  welcomed  sinners  vile : 
I  knew  him,  for  he  took  a  share 
In  all  his  children's  griefs  and  care; 
1  knew  him  by  his  love  for  me,— 
The  Crucified  of  Galilee ! 

The  vision  faded  from  afar ; 
But  still  't  is  memory's  guiding  star. 
10  cheer  the  night  and  point  a  way 
Unto  an  everlasting  day, 
When  I,  with  unveiled  eyes,  shall  see 
The  Crucified  of  Galilee ' 


THE   POET'S    COMPIAINT. 


TJ     i"'*/"'"^  ""y  b^^mng  brow 
And  calmed  me  with  thy  speJI  •      ' 
But  we  must  part  forever  now   !l 
My  Muse,  O,  fare  thee  well! 

"For  thee  for  thee  I  have  resigned 
Ihe  pleasures  others  prize,  1. 
The  joys  that  lure  the  youthful  mind 
And  charm  all  o*!^.er  eyes, --         ' 
The  sweets  of  friendship  and  of  love  - 
I  Ve  given  all  for  thee,  —  * 

xT  y  ^P^'-«^  ^^iss  above: 
And  what  hast  thou  for  me  ? 

"  ^V^^*  ?-- perchance  an  empty  name 
If  mme  the  power  to  please  ;  ^        ^' 
A  garland  from  the  bowery  of  fame  • 

But  what,  0!  what  are  these       ' 
To  aching  hearts  that  thirst  and  sigh 
^  For  friendship's  thrillinir  tone  ?  ^ 
^:  ^vnai  are  they  to  such  as  I. 


The  sorrowful  and  lone  ? 


>» 


21# 


246 


THE   poet's   complaint. 

'T  was  thus  he  sighed  at  twilight's  hour. 

And  shed  the  burning  tear; 
When  to  the  fair,  sequestered  bower 

A  lovely  form  drew  near. 
« I  heard  the  sad  complaint,"  she  said 

"  Thou  madest  unto  me ;  ' 

And  on  the  wings  of  love  I  sped 

To  bring  relief  to  thee. 

"  For  I  have  been  thy  friend  and  guide 
From  childhood's  early  years  • 
I  've  watched  o'er  thee  in  joy  and  pride. 

And  shared  thy  hopes  and  fears. 
And  now  there  's  sadness  on  thy  brow 
And  sorrow  in  thy  heart ;  * 

•  Earth  has  dealt  harshly  by  thee  now, 
But  wherefore  should  we  part  ? 

"  If  others'  joys  thou  canst  not  know, 

Nor  in  their  pleasures  share; 
If  thou  more  keenly  feel'st  the  woe 

That  all  on  earth  must  bear ; 
Yet  there  's  a  spring  of  purer  bliss 

Withm  thy  lonely  breast; 
The  giddy  throng  enjoys  not  this, 

And  thou  art  truly  blest. 

"  ^I  ^?^^?!,^.''®  '**^'»  ^°^  P^Ji°g  streams. 

And  all  thmgs  pure  and  bright; 
Flowers  sleeping  'neath  the  moon's  pale  beams, 

Or  blushmg  m  the  light ;  ' 

And  warblers  in  the  forest  trees, 

Or  SOL dng  in  the  sky; 
And  thii  0  the  power  in  every  breeze 

10  hear  an  angel's  sigh.    " 


\ 


our, 


id, 


:de, 
7, 


e  beams, 


THE   POKT'S   COMPLAINT. 

«  And  thou  canst  sit  in  calm  repose 
Un  hill,  in  flowery  dell, 

With  thoughts,  the  worldling  never  knows, 
loo  beautiful  to  tell;  ' 

While  fancy,  all  unfettered,  soars 
l^rom  bounding  sea  to  sea, 

Ur  p  unges  from  time's  fading  shores        - 
Into  eternity !  ^ 

"  W^en  morn,  with  bright  and  dewy  wings 
Sweeps  back  the  clouds  of  night,     ^  * 
To  roam  with  her  thy  spirit  springs 

In  rapture  and  delight. 
And  when  the  moon  with  stiver  rays 

Bathes  forest,  hill  and  lea, 
Then  night  unfolds  unto  thy  gaze 
Her  book  of  mystery. 

*  ^"?  \  ^^^^  give  to  thee  new  fire. 

And  teach  thee  well  the  art 
lo  wake  the  numbers  of  thy  Ivre 
And  melt  the  human  heart.       ' 
Then  strike  thy  harp  -  its  notes  prolong- 
^,-^4*  °ot  for  earthly  fame ;        ^       ^ 
The  Cross  the  burden  of  thy  song- 
Good's  glory  thy  true  aim ! 

"  ^«d  thine  a  grept  reward  indeed ; 
For  unto  thee  is  given 

And  Hope  her  pinions  rnun^ 
*  rom  that  auspicious  ~day ! 


247 


n   lil^^   a 

•-.  "lilt  iiUIJg 


LIFE. 


As  when  the  graceful  bark,  with  spreading  sails 
Glides  from  the  port  into  the  open  sea,^        ' 
Wafted  along  by  soft  and  prosperous  gabs, 

q/rf  ?u  ^l'''?'"^  '""  ^'^^  darkness  flee; 
wu      ^^  ^''''^'  '"^  ^^^^^  yo'^th  are  we, 
Wben  tirst  we  launch  upon  the  sea  of  life  — 

Uur  hopes  as  bright,  our  youthful  souls  as  free 
The  scene  around  with  love  and  br-auty  rife  ' 
And  all  unknown  to  us  its  griefs,  its  cares  and  strife. 

^^wvl'^^^f^^'  ?° '  ^^*'  «^^  •  *he  azure  sky 
rru    !t     /'^  ^°^  ^"Srj  clouds  is  soon  o'ercast; 
The  thunders  roar,  the  forked  lightnings  fly, 

Ihe  billows  beat,  and  howls  the  midnight  blast  ! 
The  trembling  vessel,  with  dismantled  mast, 
The  maddened  waves  have  in  their  fury  tossed, 
.  Until  she  lies  a  helpless  wrack  at  last,  ' 

Her  plans  all  thwarted,  and  her  hopes  all  crossed, 
Her  guiding  star  obscured,  and  her  direction  lost 

'T  is  thus  with  life ;  at  times  deemed  most  secure. 
When  all  seems  calm,  and  beautiful,  and  fair 

Dark  rocks  concealed,  the  easier  to  allure, 

The  fragile  bark  in  youth's  bright  morn  ensnare: 

And  storms  arise,  and  fierce  the  lightnings  glare 
And  wild  and  high  the  raging  billows  ?olI, 

SJ?n  T^  V^®  ^^^""^  *  ^'^^'^  i°  <^eep  despair, 
llll.  briffhtlv  nVr  ih(x  Aar.\r  ^^A  j-t r  ^  ' 

The  Morning  btar  appears  to  the  benighted  soul ! 


;  sails, 


LIFE. 


249 


It  guides  the  bark  across  life's  troubled  sea.- 

Tnri;!'K     ^^  """"l  ""*°  **^«  ^^'«tined  shore, 
lill,  anchored  in  a  blest  eternity 

It  buffets  with  the  howling  storm  no  more 
Be  ours  that  star  to  guide  us  safely  o'er ! 

An^^^.u^'  V  T^  '^^  precious  iight  be  given  ' 
And  though  the  tempests  beat  a"nd  billows^oar 

We  'lUnf  f '"^\'''  "°^  ^y  ^^^^^««  ^i«ds  are  dr'iven 
We  11  safely  anchor  soon  in  the  blest  port  of  Heavel  I 


fe  — 
free, 
rife, 
d  strife. 

cast ; 

r 

t  blast ! 

tossed, 

crossed, 
ost. 

secure, 
fair, 

nsnare ; 
;lare, 


le, 
il! 


THE 


THE    ADVENT    HERALD 

l»  pnbliihed  evory  Saturday, 
BY    aoSHUA     V.    HIMES. 


AT 


THE   DEPOSITORY 

EngUsh  and  American' Works  on  Prophecy, 

m  KIVEELAIVD  STBKET  (Fp  Stairs,)  BOSTOiV, 

tbe  Beaton  and  'Z^:ZXi!ZAZt  '"" 
T£nM8,  $2.00  per  year,  in  advance. 

THE    YOUxi'S    OU'DE 

i.  published  at  the  aamo  place,  the  firs.  ...u  i..  each  month. 

By  JOSHUA  V.  HIMEs, 

Tkrks,  25  cents  a  year,  in  advance. 


FOR  SALE   AT  THfi   ABOVE   DEPOSITORY 


THE  WORKS  OP  KEV.  JOHN  CVMMims,  D.D   ERSE 

Minister  of  the  Scottish  Church   Crown  Cnur^r     ^:^'^'^" 
THE   WRITINGS  OF  REV.  H    BOnIr       *  '"* 

BLISS  ON  THE  APOCALYPSE 

HILL'S  INHERITANCE  OP  THE  SAINTS 

FASSETT'S    DISCOURSES    ON   THE    JEWS   .vn    . 

MILLENNIUM.  ^^^  ^^^    ^^^ 

SERIES    OP   TRACTS   ON    PROPUKPV    .k       ^ 

THE     ATiVTOWT    TT-mT»    ....--  I 

„„        "T" '"^    ^iriivi-   ^WiCn  Alusioi. 

THE  HYMNS  OP  THE  HARP  /»ifi,     .  «, 

"^  WAKF  (without  Music),  Ac.  Ac 


